This Old Heart
by MyMadness
Summary: He's alive. Sure. But, what can make it worthwhile? "I gave you what protection I could ... from my heart," she told him. Post DH and proudly non-compliant. Chapter 36 The Last Chapter SS/MM COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"How long?" Snape rasped out, his voice not his own. He winced involuntarily at the tortured sound of it.

"You've been here 3 weeks," a man answered gently in a heavy Highlands accent. "It's been 3 weeks ... since Hogwarts."

And Snape slipped back into blackness.

The dream of the snake's bite disturbed and paniced him, driving him to frantically search for the surface of consciousness. His heart raced from the effort to push off what felt like a weighty fog and to leave the dream behind.

But, it was more than a dream, he realized. It was memory. Snape struggled to open his eyes, to wake up and put the specters behind him. Disoriented, he called out, as if to stake a claim here in the land of the living. His vision slowly cleared and his breathing began to ease as he studied the plaster ceiling of the room he was in. He studied it with a small shake of his head as if any moment it would yield a clue to him.

He groaned with the reeling sensation moving brought him. _Not St. Mungo's,_ he thought.

Shakily, he attempted to lift his hand until his fingers found his neck and the ragged skin there.

_Nagini,_ his brain supplied bitterly. He wanted to piece the memories together, but he couldn't. Closing his eyes tightly to force some concentration, he asked himself to recount what he last remembered. There had been the summons, the pain in his arm somehow different with the knowledge that it would be the last time he answered that call. It had been the final moments of the battle and he had been called to the shack. _Once there everything had gone quickly to hell_, he thought with a squeeze to the scar near his throat.

_And now?_ he thought bringing his eyes open and forcing himself to raise the sleeve that covered that ugly stain to his forearm. He did not believe what he saw after so many years of carrying his mark. It had seemed all that time a living thing appended to him. It had been like a spy that clung to him, that sought to betray him and certainly controlled him. And now the mark was faded to a dusty gray. Faded and dead.

_Is it all over?_ he wondered incredulously, casting his eyes to the ceiling. _Is it finally all over?_ Silent tears left his eyes and rolled from his cheeks. Confused, he wondered why he was crying. Why now? Was it relief or sorrow? Grief? Gratitude?

He knew it was time to let go of all that had come before: the lies, the pain, the obligations. _And that,_ he thought sarcastically,_ should leave me with nothing to carry forward_. Then, however, he heard light footsteps on the stairs and he knew he was wrong. He was carrying something forward, or more precisely, someone had carried him forward.

_Minerva?_ he thought. But he could not put the thoughts right in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

He was surprised by her appearance. Minerva's hair was not in its usual bun, but pulled back at her neck. Her simple white blouse was slightly open at the throat, the sleeves were pushed up. The skirt was tartan, of course. He rolled his head to the side to dry the unbidden tears on his pillow, but he knew it was a useless effort.

She looked at him without a word until finally seated at the side of his bed. At this distance, he could see she was worn and tired. "Its good to see you awake," she told him finally. The relief in her voice was palpable and her smile was firm, but happy. "It's all done. Do you understand? There is nothing more to worry about, no place to run off to." With her hand to his arm, she told him, "You are safe and you should rest."

"How long?" he croaked.

"Almost 4 weeks now. It has taken a very long time for the effects of the venom to recede. You've been very ill."

"How did...?" he began, but his voice failed him. The strain of talking showed on him and she hushed him. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists in frustration.

"Get a little better and we'll talk more. I'll tell you anything you want to know. But the past is well and truly behind you. It is as I promised. No one knows you are here."

As if on cue, a figure appeared just beyond the doorway. Minerva followed Snape's glance and said with amusement, "Well, not 'no one,' but near enough."

"Niall!" she called out. She followed that with a quick burst of Gaelic and the form returned down the stairs with an "AYE!"

Her eyes met his again. "Niall has come by almost every day. You've spoken with him a few times. Do you remember?" As a faint memory came back to Severus he let out a noise like a low hum that she took to me he did. "He is a trained healer and has watched over you with me these weeks. He's a good man. But then," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a conspiratorial sound to her voice, "I am a wee bit biased."

She straightened the blankets and hovered over him while she spoke. "I brought you to the old McGonagall Estate and we are in the caretaker's cottage. Nothing to worry about." Snape could feel the need for sleep washing over him and he struggled to keep his eyes on her. His look must have frightened her, he thought, because she reached out and placed a hand to his brow.

"Sh. Easy. Just rest," she told him. The idea of letting sleep over take him was frightening and he grew physically restless. When she sat back down and put her hand on his chest he eased his breathing. "I'll not leave you," she whispered in a sweet brogue as she brushed at his hair. "And I'll make sure the dreams do not come."

Niall had come into the room as quietly as his size would allow. Although not in any way overweight, the man would make a suitable playmate for Hagrid, Severus thought to himself. Niall held out a mug to Minerva and murmured to her quietly. His hair was short and dark with speckles of gray that did not seem to belong there. The face was boyish despite the three day growth of beard. Minerva nodded her thanks and together they lifted up Severus' shoulders from the bed. As Minerva held the mug to his lips she told him, "It's tea and a bit of Dreamless Sleep." He moved to drink it and was appalled at how weak he felt from the meager effort that took.

_If this is being alive_, he thought, _i__t is entirely too much work_.

As he took a second swallow of tea, he choked. And once he regained control, he growled in frustration. He looked over to Minerva and she smiled at him, shaking her head. "It'll be better tomorrow," she told him. His eyes flashed his unspoken sarcasm and disbelief to her and she laughed. "Well, we'll hold off on the horseback riding." He kept his head turned towards her, until Niall appeared at her side. With a touch to her shoulder, Niall signaled her to move. Minerva stood and walked from his view.

"Severus," he said with that horrible, happy informality of health practitioners. "Give me your hands, eh? I want to test them." Severus held out his hands shakily. Niall placed a finger in each and asked that Severus squeeze them. Then Niall put his hands on Severus' ankles and asked that he try to raise his feet, one at a time. He moved back to Severus' head and hovered there at an uncomfortable distance from Severus's eyes, making him flinch. Niall produced a wand and attempted to look into Severus' eyes, but the potions master pulled away. Minerva fidgetted uncomfortably on the far side of the room. Niall put the wand away and shifted his eyes away from Severus to relieve the tension. He spoke softly to tell him without Minerva's overhearing. "Listen, Mate. Take it easy on your self. Things shouldn't be permanent. The hand tremors should subside, but you are going to feel like you are on a roller coaster." Severus just looked at him questioningly.

"Your nervous system was flooded with venom. You might have trouble controlling your emotions. You might act impulsively. You may feel things quite profoundly." Niall smiled a little, "Men hate this, but you might get a little weepy. It is not unlike the changes that women report after they have a child." Niall smiled.

"I am missing the humor in this," Severus sneered in a quiet rasp.

"Well, do you have any questions? Is anything bothering you?"

"My memory is...sketchy," he admitted.

"Most things will come back to you. Don't force it. Things are most likely to come back when your mind is in a relaxed state, just before you fall asleep or right after you wake up. You may see things in dreams or flashes. You went through a lot, Severus. The mind can only take so much. You were in a fever for days and lost massive amounts of blood. You were near death. And quite frankly, we drugged the hell out of you." he said smiling at the last one. So, like I said... go easy on yourself."

Severus grunted and rolled away from Niall and finally let his eyes close. He heard Niall's footsteps leave the room and then he heard Minerva barely breathe her words, "It does me good to see the fight back in you. Oh, it does." He felt her hand enclose his. "But we are done fighting, thank goodness. So sleep."

"Tartan?" he grumbled, half asleep.

"What, Severus?"

"These pajamas. Tartan. Merlin, Minerva," he complained sleepily.

"I did it just to torment you," came her teasing whisper.

With a grunt of acknowledgement and the slightest of smiles, he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

She staid at his bedside as she had so many times before. Looking at him, she sighed. She wanted to touch him, but was afraid he would wake. Cautiously, she reached her hand forward and placed it lightly on his chest near his heart. She closed her eyes and waited to see what she would feel. As she concentrated, she could detect the protection she had granted him, and she smiled. The memory of the day she had placed it on him opened like a pensieve.

...

He had been Headmaster. It had been a tight rope walk for him, she knew, trying to mitigate disaster while courting those inflicting the damage. Before he had been "driven off" from the castle, she had confronted him in the Headmaster's office, determined to do what she could.

"I know its still you in there, Severus." She thumped him on the chest. "And I know you. I know you are still with us." He seemed unmoved by her words until she told him, "I care about you." She said these words as if she was angry, but she was close to tears. "So, be careful," she told him fiercely.

"It will come down to him killing me – you know that," he told her roughly.

She grabbed his arm. "Don't decide that. Don't give in to it."

His voice grew low. "It will be Nagini, I know." He turned, unwilling to face her. Absently he rubbed at his neck, anticipating the snake's killing bite.

"I will do everything I can. I am not giving up and I do not want you to."

"Minerva, you've been good to me," he told her finally facing her again.

"Of course, I have." She paused and reached up to hold his face and his attention firm. "Because you have deserved it." She sounded like the professor she was, trying to get something through a student's thick skull.

"Why?" he sneered. "Why would you care about me?"

"After all these years, you still cannot believe that anyone could care about you?"

He only shook his head.

"Severus, there's so little time..." she began, but her words failed her. She quickly took up his left hand in her right and then placed her left hand over his heart. He looked down to see her hand there, pale on his black robes. She held his left hand firmly to her chest. The sense of connection made a whimper quietly spill from his mouth. She looked into his eyes as she told him, "You have all the protection that this old heart can place on you." Her eyes closed in concentration, her lips moving in a silent invocation. As she finished, she raised his palm to her lips to kiss it.

Opening her eyes, she saw the effect of the magic move through him. He shuddered and then moaned. He whispered her name as she pulled him in. Her lips moved near his ear, her voice thick with emotion. "You do not have to love me for it to work on you," she said sadly as she stroked his hair. "My love is mine to give - along with its power to protect you."

He tried to speak, but the spell or the words she had just told him made it impossible.

"You'll come back when you need me? When it's time?" she asked.

He nodded.

They heard Flitwick approaching with the others who had come to force him from the castle. The play was proceeding without them. He stepped from her, but then appeared frozen.

"Go, man. They're coming," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

Minerva stood by the door, piling fresh linens on the old yellow bureau.

"How long did I sleep?" he asked, noticing that her clothes were changed and the light was coming in the window. She turned at the sound of his voice.

"Just through the night," she said. "You seem quite a bit better. I think we should try you on some soup today... put some pounds back on you. You've lost a stone."

"A stone? You have always been prone to exaggeration, Minerva."

"Exaggeration?! Me?!" she gasped. Her accent grew thicker with her irritation. "Impossible man. Maybe, I can be so sure because I have assiduously made a complete study of your... person while you were sleeping," she said raking him with her eyes.

She looked at the effect this had had on him and confidently walked toward him as if to study him, adjusting her spectacles for extra emphasis. "Oh, I am good." She clapped her hands together in a satisfied manner. "I managed to put some color back into your cheeks and render you speechless... which should make my job easier." She turned for the door.

"Your job?" he grumbled.

"I'm going to feed you some soup; I swear you don't listen," she teased on her way out.

She placed the soup on the bedside table when she returned and looked him over briefly, making him scowl. "You look a little warm," she told him in a worried tone. She leaned forward to touch him. "My hands are so hot from the soup, I can't tell," she began as she placed her hand on his cheek. And then she touched her lips to his forehead. "No. No fever." He was looking at her strangely and had, in fact, flinched when she had leaned in to test his forehead. "What?" she chuckled. "That's how my mother always checked my temperature."

Her actions had provoked a memory in him. He closed his eyes as he focused on it.

In a flash, he recalled the two of them standing together in an alcove on the castle's second floor. The final battle had begun. He had gone first to her when the Dark Mark called him. There were only minutes he could spare before he needed to go to Voldemort.

"Minerva, he has called me to the Shrieking Shack."

"I will get you out of there. Do you hear me?" Her words were full of fierce determination.

"I am asking so much of you," he conceded.

"Too much has been asked of _you_, already." She reached up to take his head in her hands. His hair fell forward and masked his face. She pulled him closer to kiss his forehead. "Bendithia ..." he heard her begin in rich Gaelic tones. The words were lost on him, but he felt a shock run through him. He pulled in a sharp breath of air as she finished. "You will not walk alone. And you will not give up."

The look in her eye made him hurt inside. He stepped forward and kissed her gently before pulling her in tight against him. She could maintain the sternness and the control no longer. Tears flooded her.

"You go," she said quietly. "And I will be there."

"Soon then," he said simply.

His mind now firmly back in the sunlit room in the Highlands, he snapped his hand up to stop the spoon he realized was coming toward him. His quick motion made her spill it. "You are tough on sheets, Severus," she told him, but he said nothing until his eyes gradually focused more.

"I remembered something," he told her in a far away voice. He put his hand to his forehead and she took this chance to put the soup firmly out of his reach. "It was during the battle at Hogwarts. I was with you. And you kissed my forehead and said...something? A spell in Gaelic?" _Oh, Merlin!_ he thought, dropping his head back into the pillow. _Then I kissed her._

"It was the second incantation, Severus. There was no time to explain and I wasn't sure you would..." she searched for a word, "consent. It was old magic. Like the first spell in the Headmaster's Office."

"The first spell?" he said slowly. His voice was more reliable, but his eyes showed the level of his confusion.

"Oh, Severus," she said sadly. She felt her heart sink into her stomach at the thought that he had forgotten, not just the spell, but her admission of how she felt about him.

"Tell me, Minerva," he growled. "I can't take not remembering these things."

"Severus, the spell you do not remember was one of protection forged on..." She hesitated unwilling to reveal her love for him as the spell's source of power. "It is an ancient one, a lost spell, considered lore. Unproven or at least it was." She smiled. "Severus, I think it helped protect you. That is all that I care about. The second spell was one for immediately before a battle." Sitting up straighter still, she told him, "Let me get this soup in you while its warm. There is time enough for talking later."

He knew something was wrong, but pressed no more. She fed him half of the soup before he protested and she relented. She packed up the tray and looked down to see that he was heavy lidded. She stood there until he had closed his eyes and then could not resist the desire to touch him. Wanting to feel the spell again herself, she laid her palm over his heart and smiled as she felt a trickle of warmth, the trace of her magic. "Minerva?" he said sleepily.

"Shush. Sleep now."

* * *

**Author's note: I swear I am just about done with the whole confusing flashback thing! Thanks for all the love!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

That evening she was surprised to see him struggling to come down the stairs. He had a wild look about him. She grabbed his arms and tried to hold him up, but they both sunk to the tread of the stair. "Severus, I heard you getting up. Get back to bed before you kill yourself."

"I remember..." he told her.

"This is not the best place to discuss anything," she told him firmly. "Stand up and let me get you back into bed."

He was chilled and shaking, making her worry that she would not be able to get him back to his room. "Let's stand up now, alright Severus? I know you would find it unseemly to be levitated back to bed. Please," she said firmly, "or I'll have to send for Niall."

He grunted and started to stand. And slowly they made their way back to his room. The sun was low now and the shadows long across the wide plank floor, the room nearly dark.

"Don't go," he managed. "Don't get Niall."

"Alright," she agreed.

She sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him to look into his face. "Was it a dream?" she asked him.

"I don't know anymore." He shook his head slowly and then stopped, locking eyes with her. It was a look that seemed to ask for her help.

She could see he was near tears and told him, "This is all too much right now, Severus. Get back into bed."

"You were with me," he said simply. He could manage no more. He shook his head in contempt with his condition and reached out a hand to her. "I remember _this,_" he breathed as he laid his hand over her heart. "I felt it... like heat and... sadness in my memory. " He made a small pained noise as he placed his other hand over his own heart. "I can feel it now."

"Oh, my dear," she murmured as she used her arms to steady him.

"What did you do?" His eyes were searching hers desperately.

"I only wanted to protect you. I didn't know if the old spells would work. I gave you what protection I could ... from my heart. Does that make sense?"

"Why?" he said in a small voice.

She couldn't tell him. All of her Gryffndor courage fled her. "You know why, Severus."

"No. You intimated. You suggested, but..."

She was frustrated when she told him in ungentle tones, "I love you, Severus."

He laughed sadly. "Minerva," he said. And then the pain in his voice was replaced with derision. "Perfect Minerva. Gone mad. Perfectly Mad Minerva. I pity you."

"Do shut up," she insisted firmly.

He looked her in the eye and softly told her, "Why do you think you can fix everything? There could be no perfect little fairy tale." His eyes flashed and his tone changed as he latched onto a bitter thought. "Had you hoped for one? Ah... Mad Minerva and her Death Eater. There's a bedtime story. Our own little Beauty and the Beast."

"You are ranting, Severus. Please, it is so ineffective when you sound like a lunatic while telling me I am insane."

"Ah! Beauty and wit." He sighed and dropped his head, letting her know he was done fighting with her.

She whispered, "Let me put you in bed now. In you go." He didn't resist, just drew his legs up as she put his head on his pillow. His hand reached for her, latching on to her blouse.

"The most amazing magic, Minerva. I remember it all now. The way you touched me." He fumbled for her hand and put it to his heart. "and I touched you. Oh, I wanted to hold on to you. I didn't want to leave. Don't go, Minerva. I'm so tired of being alone. I don't relish being alone with me. Even I can't stand me half the time."

"I'll stay."

He closed his eyes and sighed in apparent relief. Slowly, she pulled his fingers from her blouse and he made a small noise of protest as she shushed him. She moved to the straight back chair that stood near his bedside and sat down taking up his hand.

He pulled her hand to his chest to re-establish the connection, placing her palm over his heart. He opened his eyes then and looked at her bent over in the uncomfortable chair "Minerva, get in the bed." he mumbled sleepily.

She crossed over to the far side of the bed and kicked off her shoes before climbing in behind him. She reached across him and placed her hand over his heart and he covered her hand with his. Then she spooned against him tightly.

"Well, that proves it." she said peevishly.

"What?"

"I am mad. What self-respecting, sane woman would get in bed with you after that tirade of yours."

"I'm sorry I'm such a bastard, Minerva."

"Why would you do that, Severus? Push me to admit I love you and then be such a bastard."

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing one moment to the next," he said weakly. "I don't even know what's real anymore."

"Oh, Severus," she said resignedly. "Me, I'm real and I've got you. Alright? Hush now."

"You've been the best part of everything. The only thing right."

"Shush. Sleep."

* * *

In his dream he saw himself on the floor of the shack. He felt the boards vibrate as the last of them left. He had pulled so far inside himself, so fast, willing himself to die, that he was easily mistaken for dead. Minerva had come in, but he was beyond seeing or hearing. In that space between life and death, he found himself standing on a street corner. He searched the scene and suddenly saw Lily standing on the corner across from him. He felt that he was home, but she said nothing. She came no nearer, only shook her head.

"Lily," he called out to the vision.

"Severus," she said sadly. "You cannot stay."

"Lily, please," he said, but she was gone. The streets dissolved and he now stood in the country at the edge of a river. She appeared on the far side. He was frustrated and moved to step into the dark water.

"No," she told him firmly. "Life waits for you... love waits." And she smiled.

"But Lily..." and again the world changed on him and she was farther still. This time she spoke to him from the top of the hill behind the river – her voice still clear in his ear despite the apparent distance.

"I know, Severus. But you can love again."

He felt the unsettling tug of the world on him then as if sand was shifting under his feet in a current. He knew who Lily spoke of and he was almost ashamed, as if he had expected that he could have kept the other woman a secret from her. He turned around, feeling a presence. A wind blew through him. "Minerva?" he wondered aloud. His knees weakened as he saw pale, ghostly riders walking their horses toward him. He shivered and turned to find Lily, but she was gone. Everything went black. He felt hands on him and heard a sea of voices. He was cold save for the warmth spilling from his neck.

* * *

In the darkness there, she felt him stiffen in her embrace and knew he was awake. "Severus?" she whispered. She could feel his heart pounding under her hand with the intensity of the dream that had just passed.

"Part of me just wanted to die. To go. To rest."

"There was a time," she said in a soft whisper, "right after I brought you here when I thought you would leave us. The space between your heart beats was an eternity."

"A woman. Lily," he croaked. He had not said her name out loud in so long the sound of it was strange to his ears. He heaved a huge sigh catching his breath. "She told me, 'No, not now.' And the wind. I heard your voice on the wind. But, I was too tired to come back. I was lost there... by the river. The riders came. Ghosts."

"Scotsmen?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Then it must have worked." She sounded a bit surprised. "I told you with the second spell that you would not walk alone," she mused. "It was ancient clan magic said for warriors before battle. So they would have an escort of the fallen if they were wounded."

"Clan magic should not work on me."

"Ah. But I claimed you, Severus," she said pulling him a little tighter. He could hear the smile in her voice. The self satisfaction of having pulled it off.

"I don't... " he began tiredly.

"Sleep, now. I can tell you're tired."

"Hmpf," he protested, but soon he slept anyway.

In the morning, Minerva woke to the sound of Niall's boots on the stairs and quickly transformed into her tabby. The transformation was easier than having to deal with the state of her hair and clothes. And it meant she could skip any questions. At least for now.

Niall stopped on his way in when he saw the tabby jump from the bed. He followed the cat with his eyes as she nonchalantly walked the path to the door.

"Oi! Tabby," he called in surprise. "What have you been up to?"

But the cat just continued its walk out the door and across the hall to Minerva's bedroom. Niall peeked out the door long enough to see the cat turn once inside the room and reach up to smack the door closed with its front paws. Despite himself, he had to smile.

**Author's Note: I was in a rush to get this up before things got hectic here. Thanks to J for the the help and she gets the credit for the fever testing technique demonstrated in the previous chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

"It's time you had a proper bath, Severus," Minerva told him later that morning. Snape scowled. "It will do you a world of good. I know your muscles must hurt, your neck especially," Minerva said knowingly. "Niall brought over some salts for the bath. It will ease a lot of the soreness out of you."

Severus was glaring. It was a look that would have reduced any First Year to tears. Minerva just turned and walked into the bathroom to start the water running in the tub. She came back with her sleeves rolled up looking like she was about to tackle an impossible job. "I've put a change of clothes in there for you, proper clothes from a trunk of yours I brought up here. So, let's get this over with. Just tell me, Severus. How much help do you want?"

"None," he said, finally breaking his silence. Pulling off the covers, he eased his legs to the floor. Minerva watched nervously. He stood slowly and then walked the space to the bathroom door feeling very unlike himself. He balled his fists hoping to hide the tremors in his hands, and he found he was concentrating on every step like a toddler.

Minerva turned to follow him into the bathroom, but he closed the door firmly on her.

She changed the sheets while he was gone, an easy task even with only wandless magic. These small tasks she had done so many times over a lifetime in this cottage seemed to be ingrained into her hands. And then she was left with nothing to do but think and wait and stare at those old hands.

She took a seat on the freshly made bed and waited uneasily. She heard him getting out of the tub and was relieved when he finally opened the door. He had put the fresh clothes on. The trousers were cinched in considerably, she noticed. She smiled at him or perhaps she was smiling at her own thoughts - at the unlikelihood of Severus Snape standing wet and half dressed in her cottage.

She grabbed a towel from the bureau and brought it to him. "You're not even dry," she scolded. "Your clothes are sticking to you." She tried to mop at his neck and he stopped her.

As he worked to dry his hair, she noticed his shirt front. He had managed to do only two of the buttons. "My hands are completely unreliable," he said in answer to her unspoken question. "And if I attempted the buttons with my wand, I'd probably end up with them fused to my chest."

"Your hands will get better," she told him gently. She reached for his shirt and started to line up the sides. Standing so close to him, she felt desire run through her like a current. Her hands froze.

"Don't fuss over me," he told her.

_S__top hovering over him,_ she chastised herself as she dropped the edges of his shirt. Finally, out loud she managed, "I'm sorry. You're right."

_Fool. Embarrassing old fool. Leave him be,_ her brain told her. She tried to breathe normally, but it was as if there was no air left in the room. _It's just the proximity__. It's seeing him on his feet again._ She sighed as she watched him. _He doesn't feel the same way, Min_. She needed to pull herself together. And she would. She would make herself impassive.

Nobody got the better of Minerva McGonagall. Not even Minerva McGonagall.

Severus watched her. There was color rising in her cheeks and her mouth had a firm set to it. He focused on her lips and remembered Niall's words about being impulsive. His mind flew to the memory of their moments in the second floor hallway at Hogwarts and the way he had felt when he had had to say goodbye to her.

"I kissed you in the hallway, right there on the second floor," he said with a hint of amusement and disbelief: part question, part statement. And he reached up to touch her face. He didn't want to stop to think. Thinking too hard and too long had kept him from doing this a long time ago.

"Severus?" and she knew she shouldn't continue, "why did you kiss me then?"

He summoned a liquid tone. "Why does anyone kiss someone?"

"It could be innocuous..."

"Nothing about me is innocuous," he told her in his most seductive voice. He leaned in to kiss her and she stiffened briefly. He thought he heard her chuckle.

"Are you doing that 'I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses' bit, Severus? I'm insulted," she teased him. "Tell me what you are really thinking."

"I just wanted to kiss you. Men like to kiss women. This is a phenomenon you may have noticed."

"Oh, I've noticed. I've noticed for more years than you've been alive," she fired back.

"You find it necessary to continually apprise me of our relative ages?" Severus asked.

"I'm realistic, Severus," she said sadly.

"You're a masochist."

She laughed in reply, "_That,_ my friend, would make us perfect for each other."

"You find it easier to banter with me than approach this."

"Well, you find it easier to play a part than to be yourself," she countered.

He sighed and held her gaze with eyes that were vulnerable and sincere - something few men had ever had the nerve to do with her. "Believe me. I have thought about kissing you, Woman." His long fingers trembled slightly as they trailed across her jaw. "For so long, I..."

His touch. His words. The look on his face. They all conspired against her. _Oh, he's got you, Min, _some still-rational part of her brain informed her. The sensations started to spin - slowly enough at first - but then things went from merry-go-round to maelstrom in a moment. Finally, there wasn't a coherent thought left in her head.

_Enough!_ part of her screamed in frustration.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard, effectively silencing him and the voice in her head. He deepened the kiss wanting to make her understand, hoping she could want him. He thought he had succeeded when he heard her contented sigh. Then she put a hand to his chest and asked him to stop.

"Enough," she heard herself say weakly. "You are recovering. You're not thinking clearly. And I... well, I am apparently befuddled by age." She sounded sad, but then she smiled, "But I did always want to kiss you like that." She put a hand to his face and stared into his eyes.

"I know what I'm doing," he told her.

"Oh, Severus, I will not seduce a man who doesn't even know what day it is," she said as cheerfully as she could manage. "Or be the recipient of a little mercy tumble in your bed." She dropped her hand and turned her head rather than be undone by the look in his eyes. "You feel sorry for me that I'm such an idiot old fool to fall in love with you, and you feel guilty because you were a complete ass last night." She found the courage to look at him again. "Maybe you are thinking it doesn't feel half bad to spend the night curled up with someone after all the suffering we've been through. But that doesn't make this a good idea. Not right now." She reached up to stroke his arm again. "Finish getting dressed and come down to eat."

Looking at his face she thought about giving him a quick kiss. Stopping herself, she smiled faintly and squeezed his arm. She turned and was out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

After lunch they moved to a side room on the first floor, a sunroom with three walls of windows. They each sat in a floral overstuffed chair, he looking ill at ease about being asked to sit in such a thing. He waited, knowing once she was ready she would let him know that she would answer his questions.

She told him about the mountains that made for their view and she asked him if he needed anything to drink, all of this with the easy air of a hostess. And then, finally, her voice lower in tone, she said, "You've been waiting for answers about the final battle, Severus. I know."

"Tell me what happened, Minerva..." he said with as steady a voice as he could manage. In broad strokes, she outlined the battle, ending with finding him in the Shrieking Shack. She had skirted the issue they both knew. "Now just tell me, Minerva. Who died? Who's left?"

She stood and pushed at her hair as she made her way across the room to the mahogany table that held her whiskey hidden within. She poured a glass for him and one for her. She sipped at hers quickly. And finally she started. The list, the descriptions of the fights that had felled too many, took her about 15 minutes. When she finished, she walked back to where her whiskey bottle sat and placed her glass down on the table top. When she turned, she saw Severus held his head in his hands. "I've had my time to try to deal with my grief. Let me give you a little," she whispered as her hand met his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I'll make sure there is a good dinner in the works for us and I'll be back."

When she returned she found him by the west window watching the sun hover low. "There is still more we have not talked about," he said to her reflection.

"Well, we'll talk about it later," she told him. "I know you are going to fight me on this, but I can see you are tired. You should rest before dinner." She gave him a look he had seen many times over the years, one that would brook no refusal.

With a sigh he acknowledged he didn't have the fight in him to resist.

"Good," she said, taking his arm. "I'll tuck you in," she told him, provoking his ire in a friendly way. Then she smiled at him. "And we can keep Niall from accusing me of running you down."

They had made it half way up the dark stairs when he stopped her progress, pulling her to a halt. "Tell me about Niall," he said in a suspicious tone.

She laughed and started pulling him up the stairs. "He's my son. He lives up at the main house. That's where his clinic is."

"He's your son?"

"Yes," she said as if the question was ridiculously silly. "I really thought you had figured that out."

He let her guide him into the room and then asked her, "Why did no one know about him?"

"Merlin, Severus!" she said and pointed to the bed, telling him to take a seat with that motion. "A lot of people know about him. You may not have, but it is not as if you ever asked me much about my private life." She paced over to the window. "And I always felt he was safer if he was not associated with me or his father...I didn't want things to be this way." She blew out a breath and turned to look out the window. "Everything was quite wonderfully, blessedly normal until ... until Voldemort and the killings."

"The first time, you mean?" he questioned gently.

"Yes. Gavin...Niall's father. My husband," she said the words as if she had not said them in a very long time. Then she gathered her breath again. "He was a member of the Order. When the Potters were killed and the Longbottoms left near death..." She turned and saw that Severus had gripped his forehead. He looked weary, almost shaken. He knew where this was going.

"He was soon targeted by..."

"Death Eaters," he supplied, spitting out the words.

"Yes. He was killed about two weeks after the Potters died. I left Hogwarts and Niall and I staid up here in seclusion."

He was on his feet now. "How can you have me here? How could you make Niall tend me?" There was rage and pain in his voice, but still she closed the distance between them and confronted him.

"You didn't do this, Severus. You are not responsible," she told him.

"But I..."

"Damn it, Severus! Stop it. You cannot be history's scapegoat. Do you think that maybe THIS is why I have been careful never to mention him to you before?" Her eyes flashed at him in anger. She stood in front of him shaking, looking into his pained black eyes until she could take it no more. "I don't want it to always be about the past, Severus," she said before brushing past him and out of the room.

When Minerva came back to get him for dinner she found him stretched out on the bed, his arm thrown over his eyes.

"Dinner is ready," she tried.

Slowly he sat up, but he made no move to stand. "I want to understand what is between us now."

"I can hardly answer that on my own," she told him gently, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. "Just leave it be for a while, won't you, Severus?"

"I don't know that I should stay here. Emotionally, I'm out of control."

"Severus," she said cutting him off. "It's alright."

"No. It's not. You've put up with me for longer than you should have." He raised his hand slowly to her cheek and she closed her eyes at his touch. "I don't know what to do." His breathing was rough and audible. Abruptly, he pulled his hand back and told her, "I don't trust myself to do right by you and you can hardly want me here indefinitely."

"I understand that things are very confused right now. But do not tell me what I want," she told him in a hushed voice.

"The protection you placed on me... is it what I'm still feeling?" he said looking at his hands.

"I don't know," she said. "That spell was used where there was a... connection. It should not create a connection. It was normally part of a binding ceremony..."

"A binding ceremony?"

"Yes..." she said impatiently, trying to finish.

"Like a...?"

"Yes," she finished for him, "a wedding." He was looking like a fish starved for air. "Breathe, Severus. You were not unwittingly married to me. On that happy note," she said sarcastically, "could we please go to dinner?"


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner was a completely silent affair except for the occasional clink of silverware on china. They did not even look at one another. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Minerva pushed up from the table. "I'm going to sit up a bit, Severus. You go on to bed."

He declined her suggestion and followed her into the side room. Minerva took a seat by the fire and immediately closed her eyes, while Severus grabbed a book from the book shelf and sat down with it. He placed it on the ottoman in front of him, and using his wand he attempted to magically turn the pages. He was alternately successful and unsuccessful. Finally, he slammed the book closed and then rubbed his hands together hoping to ease the stiffness. A black mood settled over him.

He looked over to where Minerva sat and he could see the sadness in her face. "Minerva?" he started, but he had no idea what he should say.

Her green eyes snapped opened. She raked her hand across her cheek catching a single tear that had fallen there. "Good night, Severus," she told him suddenly and stood up. As she passed his chair, she rested her hand on his shoulder for a long moment and then left.

* * *

In the morning, it was Niall who came to his room. "Come have breakfast with me?" he said as he poked his head around the door jam.

Once downstairs Snape was wary when he realized that Minerva was no where to be seen. He waited, believing Niall would reveal the mystery soon enough. In the end, however, it was Severus who grew impatient. "Where is your mother?" he finally asked.

"She decided to go visit some friends for a week or two. She came by the main house quite early this morning and told me she was going. She asked me to come by and check on you." His tone betrayed nothing.

_I should have foreseen this, _Severus thought._ I mentioned leaving. Her Gryffndor sensibilities have driven her to do the noble thing and be the one to go._

They finished breakfast in silence until Niall stood and said, "Let's go outside. You haven't seen any of the estate yet. I thought after that we should move you to the main house rather than have you here by yourself."

As he walked, Severus could feel a sense of disconnect inside. There was an emptiness in his gut that told him he was adrift, and an ache in his heart that revealed how bereft he felt. _How patently ridiculous that I have come to expect and anticipate her company. The more fool I. _Something in him knew there was nothing to do but just keep moving, to let his body make progress and hope that his heart and his mind caught up.

They walked half the distance to the main house and stopped by the horse paddock so that Severus could rest unobtrusively. They leaned on the rails of the fence and Snape decided to approach a conversation. "You grew up here?"

"Mostly. My mother quit teaching after my dad died and we came here. Partly it was the grief, I think, and partly that she knew here she could keep me safe. You've found, I'm sure that there are a fair number of wards on the cottage and that its fireplace is not on the Floo system." Snape nodded. "She took no chances. So, the idea of my leaving here to start school frightened her," Niall explained.

Snape looked at him in disbelief unable to imagine Minerva McGonagall afraid. "Frightened her?"

Niall continued, "She was a different person then. By the time my letter came, though, the danger was mostly gone. The Death Eaters were firmly underground." He gave Snape an uncomfortable look and continued. "She knew she had to let me go. I settled in to Hogwarts and my mom started to teach again."

"How could you manage with your mother as the head of Gryffndor?"

"Well, I wasn't a Gryffndor," he replied. Then he laughed at the memory. "My poor mother nearly fell off her chair when the sorting hat yelled out, "RAVENCLAW!" Even Severus had to smile at that. He could imagine the stunned look on Minerva's face as plain as if he had been there.

"And my mother and I decided not to reveal the relationship openly. I went through school as Niall Campbell. My friends knew who my mom was, of course. And most professors knew, but it was easier for me not to be tagged as her son every minute. She thought it was safer that way, too. There were enough Campbells that I just blended in."

"I must have been teaching there by the time you left." Severus said.

"You were," Niall smirked. "But you must have only been teaching lower classes that first year. I had Slughorn for Advanced Potions in sixth year and I left for an internship at St. Mungo's before my seventh."

Snape nodded in understanding and turned his attention back to the horses running in circles. The mountains in the background, the crispness to the air - it was beautiful – this place Minerva chose. But sometimes, quiet discomforted him. And beautiful things... beautiful things all went to hell at his touch, he thought.

Finally, Niall, broke the silence, "It's none of my business, but..."

Severus groaned with irritation and cut him off without even turning to look at him, "How many illustrious conversations have started that way?"

Niall laughed and they both left off. They spent another 10 minutes in silence leaning on the rails and looking into the distance. Finally, they returned to the dirt road where Niall stopped Severus with a hand on his arm, so he could look into the older man's eyes.

Severus looked from the hand on his arm to Niall's face. "You obviously feel compelled to say something."

"I saw how she was when she showed up here with you. Frightened, that she would lose you. So I think I know how she feels about you," the big man said firmly. "If you don't feel the same way, but you stay, you'll make her miserable ... you know."

"I know," Severus said simply and started off ahead of him.

Coming up along side Severus in three easy, loping steps, Niall tried to tackle a normal conversation. "Did my mother tell you anything of the facility we run here?" he asked.

"No, nothing."

"Well, its a clinic, a place for rehabilitation. That sort of thing. Not exactly the 'St. Mungo's of the north,'" he mused. "It's much smaller and something different. There are more children here. Some strange cases that are manageable, but which we cannot cure... at least not yet."

Snape winced. How he hated happy optimism.

They entered the main door into a large open foyer. The clinic's ground floor had retained the look of a manor house except for a reception area off to the side with a bell and a list of instructions for incoming cases.

A staircase wound down from the center of the house to the right side of the entrance hall in a beautiful sweep. Snape was following it with his eyes when he saw a small child sitting near the bottom of the steps partially hidden by the banister. She emerged and sidled up to Niall, keeping her distance from Severus.

"Hello, Zoe," he told her giving her a friendly pat on the back.

"Who is he?" she whispered to Niall.

"Ah. This is..." and Niall looked at Severus wondering how he would handle this. What name he may want to reveal.

"Feste," Snape said. This earned him a curious look and a smile from Niall.

"Jump, Niall?" Zoe wondered.

"Right -o," and Niall jumped, his heavy boots thumping loudly on the marble floors, a large smile on his face. "This is sort of a ritual with us," Niall tried to explain while jumping. "A pattern of behavior, a coping mechanism." Severus cast a glance at the ceiling, sure that 285 pounds of Highlander repeatedly slamming into the floor would bring something down on his head.

"Can't you jump, Feste?" Zoe asked.

Snape raised a single eyebrow. "No, actually. That's why I'm here."

This seemed to worry Zoe and she froze next to Niall. "Hey, Zoe," Niall tried. "Have you seen Asha? Is she upstairs?"

"No," she whispered. "She's in the kitchen."

"Thanks, Zoe. We're going to go see her. Do you want to come along?"

"No," she told him still whispering. "I think I'll work the desk." And the small girl went over to the reception area, climbed up into the chair and began playing with things there.

"Right-o," Niall called after her, making Severus inwardly groan. "Okay, Feste," and he winked at about the same time that Severus' groan became quite audible, "let's go see my wife."

"I didn't know you were married."

"Yeah. Asha and I met at St. Mungo's. She was a Healer there when I started my internship. Not that we started dating then. She thought I was a pretty typical, annoying teenager then."

They reached the door to the kitchen and Niall swung it open to reveal a large kitchen inhabited by 3 house elves and the woman Severus assumed was Asha. She was in western muggle clothing, but the colors and her bangles spoke of an Indian heritage. She stopped what she was doing immediately and came over to warmly welcome Severus. She squeezed his hand. Her smile was engaging and her manner pleasingly confident. Her hair was long, straight and brown, and her eyes were deep and warm. She was nothing short of beautiful, he noted and he absent-mindedly looked back over to Niall who said, "Yeah, I know. She's amazing."

"Look at you, Mr. Snape. You are doing quite well, I see," she smiled.

"Much better, yes," Severus admitted.

"You would not remember me. I checked on you quite a bit early in your care, but you were unconscious."

"Thank you," Severus managed.

"Well, we could not have done anything for you, if Minerva had not done so much before she got you here."

Severus was confused, wondering if they meant the spells. Niall explained, "She had already controlled the bleeding, administered an anti-venom that we had prepared for her in advance and used a potion to support your heart rate," Niall said calmly.

"Minerva is an amazing woman. Truly amazing," Asha said.

"Yes," was all Severus managed.

_And what a damn fool she is for loving me, _he thought.

He touched the spot over his heart absent-mindedly. _And me for loving her._

* * *

**Author's note: I find this gets harder and harder to write. I often worry that this is not worth reading. I get stuck on rough patches of the document and just want to toss it all. So, I really appreciate the feedback, folks. **

**Feste is one of the Shakespearian fools. Although he is not the fool in As You Like It, where the phrase "The more fool I" comes from. That was Touchstone and I just couldn't see Severus introducing himself as Touchstone, no matter how much of a fool life has made him feel like.**

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	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Finally, some of you will say... some content that merits the rating. **

* * *

Severus spent the time Minerva was gone walking, reading, or working to restore his abilities with his hands. His natural inclination was to isolate himself and he did this as much as he could. Asha and Niall, however, insisted that he eat dinner with them every night. Dinners were quiet and casual; often one or the other was with patients as there was no resident staff, only house elves and two volunteers who came in during the days.

Eventually, Severus agreed to help with potions that the clinic could use. He would mix basic compounds which freed up Niall and Asha. This had the added benefit of making him feel merely like a displaced person rather than a dependent patient. He tried to avoid the patients and mostly succeeded. Zoe, however, inexplicably found him fascinating rather than intimidating. She sought him out daily hoping to teach him to jump. After a week and a half of this, Severus was tempted to let the girl succeed if it meant he would get some peace.

Two weeks after Minerva left, an owl arrived at breakfast; Severus held his breath. He lingered over his tea waiting for Asha to tell him if it was word from her mother-in-law. The message said merely that Minerva would Floo to the main house the following afternoon. Asha smiled a very knowing smile at him when she told him what the letter said. "I have a good feeling about this," she sang as she swept out of the room. Severus' hand began to flutter.

The next day, Severus told Niall he would rather wait for Minerva over at the cottage. He made sure the two house elves there had a dinner ready and he settled in to wait.

From his post at the window he finally saw her walking the road from the main house. His heart in his throat, he met her at the door. "I missed you," he said quietly and he moved in to take her cloak. Slowly, her cloak over his arm, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He felt held there and continued to hover, his lips near her ear, enjoying her sweet smell.

"How have you been, Severus?" she asked breaking the spell he seemed under.

"Ah," he says straightening. "Much better. Physically, I'm fine. And well, emotionally, I stopped crying in my soup about a week ago," he told her with mock pride. He hung the cloak in the closet and asked her, "Will you come sit down with me and tell me about your time away?"

They talked of other things during dinner until she finally said, "I went back to Hogwarts briefly which was a very big mistake." She shook her head. "Maybe later it will be better, but for now, for me, I can't be there. I saw Poppy, and then a few friends in London. Then I stopped in the midlands to see a cousin. To sum up," she said in a biting voice, "everyone told me I looked tired and at least two people recommended therapy!" He tried to suppress a snicker and raised a napkin to hide his smile. "I will not even tell you what Rolanda recommended, she is rather single-minded in her notion of what would help," she said with a smirk.

He opened his mouth to say something ill-advised and she held him off with a single finger raised in front of him.

"One word, mister and you..."

"...will find myself in Detention?" he asked in a low silky voice, one eyebrow poised high.

"Flirt," she accused rising from the table. "If you are tired, go turn in. I'm going to sit up a while by the fire after I get ready for bed." They left the dishes for the house-elves. Severus moved to the side room and stood staring into the fire, while Minerva headed up the stairs to her room.

She really could not bear this any longer. She ached inside thinking of him. _Some place very specific inside_, she added to herself. "Poor cat," she chuckled staring into her dresser drawer. How long had she waited to finally clear the air and know what they could make of this? She chose a sleeveless nightgown and put it on before she settled in front of her mirror to brush out her hair. _How can he even think of you that way? _ _You are older than him, Min. A lot older, _she thought as she looked into mirror. "Oh, shut up," she muttered out loud to her reflection, tossing the brush down for punctuation. She grabbed the robe that sat at the end of her bed and headed downstairs. Her feet were bare as she padded into the living room.

"Hello, Severus, " she managed to say as if she was merely striding into a staff meeting years ago. He turned and saw her and did not even attempt a reply. He was stunned by her appearance and a mischievous grin caught at the edges of his mouth.

_This is entirely surreal,_ he thought. _But nice._

She strode straight for the cabinet where her whiskey hid and as she uncorked the bottle she heard Severus behind her. "Gryffindor courage?" he chided playfully.

"Gryffindor courage does not come in a bottle, my Slytherin friend." She tried to look sternly at him, but it would not work and soon she was chuckling. She poured a glass for him and one for her. After toasting him with a quick raise of her glass and a nod, she took a sip.

"You know," she laughed. "Over the years I got far too much enjoyment out of our rivalry. Maybe Poppy's right. Maybe I do need therapy."

"There were days when a little tussle with you was the only enjoyment I was afforded," he said and then his voice turned serious. "You were very important to me..." She reached to touch him, but he caught her hand and held it. "Do you remember walking back from the Quidditch pitch? When you put your arm around me and said, 'You're a good man, Severus.'"

"I told you that because you seemed so lost. The good man in you was so lost and damned by everything Albus put you through... that you put yourself through. I worried, Severus, that there wouldn't be anything left to you when the world got done with you. I've missed you," she said. "I've missed that 'good man'. I've sat and I've watched and I've waited, not knowing who you would be when you finally came back." She blew out her breath. "IF you came back. It has been a long, hard wait, Severus."

She walked over to a chair to sit, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"But," he continued, "we need to settle this."

She knew what he meant by the look in his eye. Them. "Settle it without me, I'm a tired old woman." she tried.

"Tired old woman, my ass," he said under his breath. Hearing him, she nearly choked on her whiskey.

"I didn't go away to put you on a time table, Severus. We do not need to settle this all tonight."

Tentatively he reached to take her glass. He placed it on the table and then traced her jaw with his fingers.

"Severus, don't," she sighed sadly and squeezed her eyes tight pulling back from his touch. "I won't push you away this time, so don't play with me." Her tone was serious.

Slowly, gently he came closer and placed his hands on her hips. He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of the thin nightgown under his hands, the hardness of her hip bones. A sensation of desire radiated through him. He opened his eyes as she draped her arms around his shoulders. "Puts me in a mind to dance, standing here with you like this," she said. He growled his disapproval. "You know, I had money on my being able to get you to dance at one of those balls. You would look at me and I thought you would ask me...but no. I lost a lot of money to Rolanda. Fair amount of my pride, too," she teased.

"I couldn't stand to watch anyone dance with you, but I didn't want to dance. If I had danced with you," he said in a predatory tone, "it would have been an excuse to touch you." His thumb caressedher lower lip, "And then I would have kissed you."

She waved her open palm and a record tottered onto a gramophone. "Let's test that theory, shall we?" Holding up a hand for Severus to take, she waited for the music.

He wasn't sure what he had expected to hear, but this was not it. For a long moment he stood frozen and then he smiled. "Van Morrison?" he said. He took her hand but did not move.

"I know you had your heart set on Glenn Miller, Severus. Try to bear with me." She had a hard set to her eyes that was reminiscent of all the times she had teasingly chastised him at Hogwarts.

"But I said I never really wanted to dance."

"_I _wanted to dance. Could this be about me for just a minute?" She told him as she shook her head at him in mock shame. "All those years, you were always so dashing looking... on the rare occasion that you stayed at any ball for more than a minute and a half." He started to look slightly severe with her. "Yes," she said gently, "that's the look. No one does gorgeous and pouty like you. Rolanda always said so."

The look turned to surprise as she pressed in closer to him. He grumbled as she tucked some hair behind his ear. And then he was lost to her striking green eyes. The laugh lines. The perfect nose. Her lips.

"Minerva?" he said as if he was about to ask permission. But he didn't, he just kissed her softly, barely brushing his lips against hers. "You're beautiful."

Toying with the back of his neck, she willed him to kiss her again.

"I love you, Minerva."

"You don't need to tell me that, Severus. I came here prepared to hear anything, but not that," she said resolutely.

He kissed her full on the mouth, testing and teasing. His hands trailed up her back and then down until they settled low on her hips again. As he pulled back he smiled a very self-satisfied smile she had seen many times before.

"Twenty-five points to Slytherin," she told him in a throaty voice as she stroked his ear with a single graceful finger.

The music had ended, but he kept his hold on her. "We missed our dance," he said. She waved her open palm towards the gramophone again and the needle retreated to the beginning of the record. She waited for him to begin their dance, but instead he kissed her with a feather light touch across her lips just like before. Then, his mouth to her ear, he told her, "I love you, Minerva." He felt her tighten her grip around his shoulders and heard her voice catch when she said his name. And he smiled, knowing he was believed at last.

For a moment he closed his eyes to finally invite the music in. And then, with careful steps, he danced with her. Even before the music ended, however, his lips were on hers again. Slowly, carefully, thoroughly, he enticed her. As they finally eased apart, she waited for his entreaty, sure that he would ask her to bed. Instead he traced her sides with his hands. His touch grew heavier and he bent his head to her neck. Molding against her, he moaned softly. He kissed his way back to her lips where she welcomed him.

Each indulged the other, enjoying the wait, until she heard him breathe her name in a way that stopped her. She looked into his eyes and with a practiced motion of her hand, she put out the lights. He held tightly to her and pressed his lips to her forehead as if to catch his breath. And he heard her say, "Take me to bed, love."

Her hand in his, they left the darkness of the room for the stairs. At the top he hesitated, letting her lead the way into her room.

He shrugged off his open frock coat and started on his shirt while she turned back the covers of the bed. A growl of frustration rose from him when he couldn't manage his buttons.. "My hands..." he complained loudly.

She stepped over to him. "Shush, its just the anticipation." She worked his buttons open as he rested his hands on her shoulders, his lips in her hair.

"Too much foreplay," he groaned.

"About 5 years too much," she joked.

Once his shirt was open, she turned her back to him and pulled off her nightgown. Then she climbed into bed and lay on her side watching him in the dim light.

Finally, after divesting himself of his shirt and trousers, he joined her in bed.

Their bodies were close, but not touching. It seemed oddly overwhelming to them.

"It's ridiculous... I'm nervous," she admitted.

"I know. Slowly then," and he kissed her softly. "Tell me what you want, when you feel you can't wait any more," he whispered.

He kept the distance between them, but placed his hand on her back. His hand smoothed warmly down to her hip and stopped there. Long seconds passed and neither moved. With each breath she felt the heat and the desire build. Warmth seemed to radiate from his palm through her, creating a need for him. She took his hand from where it rested on her hip and pulled it to her center. "There," she said breathlessly. And his fingers drew a moan from her as she arched into him.

"More," she told him softly. And then again, urgently, "More."

And finally, pleadingly, "Now. Love, now."

* * *

**More Author Notes: I made my husband read this and he chuckled at all the right spots and then went horribly silent for the last bit. He stood up, staggered to the door, and then wandered off into traffic. I hope I have not damaged him or any of you poor, kind readers.**

**Before my husband wandered off dazed he did insist that no one would know who Van Morrison or Glenn Miller are. I hope you prove him wrong. I was channeling Van Morrison's appropriately titled Magic Time for their dance.**

**Thank you so much for all the great support. Obviously, the whiny author gets the grease, so to say...**

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	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Whining: Oy! I have only just now figured out how to fix errors in a chapter without deleting and starting over. Embarrassing. This means previous chapters are now improved which, of course, helps none of you who have already read them. I am still a victim of the Disappearing Line Curse. If this chapter does not have three lines in it, PLEASE GOD, tell me what I am doing wrong.  
**

**Thank you everyone for all the kind comments. It is amazing the thrill I get when I come to check on how my story is being received. I am becoming a little love junkie.**

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he had lain there, completely lost in thought as he watched Minerva sleep. He concluded that, as wonderful as it was to hear this amazing witch murmur "oh, yes, my love" in response to his ministrations, he liked this as well... just the sound of her sleeping there next to him. Her deep, peaceful breaths soothed him. _Could I really make her happy?_ He smirked at the thought... adding _for a sustained amount of time outside of bed._ Was something as tenuous as contentment possible for him? A small measure of it, perhaps, at last.

She stirred and stretched, and then tugged her blankets a little higher. "Mmmm," she said, smiling in response to her delicious thoughts. And then, she managed, "Good morning," to the man that lay there staring at her.

"You've never told me why you aren't at Hogwarts anymore," he said as he idly stroked at her shoulder.

"Other people just say 'Good morning,' Severus," she chided. "I resigned," she said finally.

"When?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically light.

"Three weeks after the battle. I split my days between here and Hogwarts for three weeks after I brought you here. I don't think anyone ever wondered why they couldn't find me for a few hours. There was so much chaos." Her tone was solemn.

"Minerva..." he said softly, sensing her distress.

"It was ...difficult," she said finally as she shifted her eyes from him to stare at the ceiling and regain her composure. "When I wasn't here hovering over you, I was there..." she sighed, "helping with the dead, the wounded or the damage done to the castle." She shook her head as she looked at him. "No. No more crying. I won't start again," she vowed despite her full eyes. "I have no right."

"Why not?"

"Because you made it. You're here." She gave him a squeeze, then her tone changed. "But, you need to think about what you're going to do. I have no delusions about you wanting to stay here forever." She pulled her robe on and headed for the bathroom.

"So, a little shag and you are tossing me out? Perhaps I was looking forward to being a kept man," he called out to her back.

"Oh, Severus," she responded with exasperation as she turned. "Must you willfully misconstrue? I am not kicking you out. And I am not merely trying to fill my bed. These past two months would easily qualify as the most extreme measures ever taken to fill my bed! I would like us to be... together... indefinitely. But I do not want a caged lion on my hands."

It was with additional irritation that she noted that he was enjoying her display of irritation. "Two weeks," she announced as she continued on to the bathroom. "during which we will try to have more nights like last night than we do nights where we try to kill each other. And THEN," she said sticking her head out the bathroom door, "I will ask you to think a bit about your future." She started to loosen up her robe, "Now, my Lothario, I am going to take a bath."

He pushed up onto one elbow and raised his eyebrows at her. She immediately narrowed her glance at him in mock disapproval. "You just like winding me up," she complained. "I swear this is some Slytherin form of foreplay. You are very lucky that I like seeing you happy, even when it is at my expense."

"Does that mean I can come in?"

"Well, it _is_ an unusually large tub..." she relented as she ducked back into the bathroom.

* * *

"And where does the world think I am. And you?" he asked as he pushed with disdain at the mountains of foamy bubbles in the tub.

"Well, when I resigned it was just good bye, farewell, no forwarding address," she said with a dismissive gesture. "We buried you, " she said as calmly as she could.

He glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I've gotten used to the idea. I can see where you might not have." A shiver ran across him despite the warm water in the tub. "You were not the only one left in the Shrieking Shack," she continued. "I do not know who's... remains I passed off as yours. But after what people had seen, it was easy for them to accept that that was you."

"You mean they were glad to think it was me."

"No. Severus, not at all," she insisted gently. "Now that the truth is out, with the memories that you released to Harry, you are a hero." She waited for him to say anything and finally she asked, "Do you want to go back?"

"No," he said quite simply without a moment of hesitation.

After a long silence she told him in soothing tones, "Turn around, love, and scoot back here to me. I'll scrub your back." He turned and when his back was to her, she reached her long arms out to his shoulders and gently drew him to her between her upright knees. She gave his back a cursory sponging before she settled him against her chest and kissed the back of his neck. Then she pulled him tighter and placed her hand over his heart.

Closing his eyes at her touch, he realized what a marvel she was. Seeing he was uncomfortable with the conversation, she had deftly changed the subject, offered him physical comfort in the guise of washing his back, and given him the opportunity to turn around so that he would no longer have to keep his face inscrutable.

"Sometimes I worry for my sanity," he told her. "Memories pull me in. It's unsettling. I feel it as much as see it. And I don't seem to be much of a match for death and mayhem anymore. Just then, I could _**feel**_ myself on the floor of the shack... cold, so sure I would die."

Her hands stilled, then her grip loosened and she made to release him. "We've taken this all too fast. I've taken this too fast."

He grabbed her hands. "No, Minerva. Don't let go. I need this."

She hugged him tightly and placed her head against his back. "Oh, love. How do we get through this then?"

"Just time," he whispered.

* * *

Niall was quiet and his wife knew what was bothering him.

"Your mother's been back at the cottage for almost two days now and we've heard nothing from her." She eyed him hoping he would say something, but he wouldn't take the bait. He didn't even look at her. So she walked over to where he was sitting and brushed at his bristly hair with its premature grey. "This is all a little too weird for you, huh?" she said softly.

"What is?"

"That the cottage has turned into the Love Shack."

"Asha! Ugh. That is ... not what I want to think about," he complained, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I think it's nice," she insisted, smiling. "Look, if you don't do something they are going to think you are avoiding them. Send an owl over, so you don't disturb them," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "and invite them over for dinner tomorrow."

* * *

Minerva sat at the desk in the corner of the side room. She looked up when Severus walked in.

"An owl's come, Severus. Asha and Niall want us to come over for dinner." She stood up to show him the piece of paper.

"Why would they send an owl?"

"Mmmm, I think they don't want to intrude."

Severus groaned. "So, we are a spectacle?"

"No... they are letting us avoid that."

"But, we are going to be scrutinized," he said pained.

"I would hardly say 'scrutinized,' Severus. But it would be nice if Niall was not left with the impression that his old fool of a mother was showering her affection on a man who did not care for her."

"So, appropriate amounts of affection displayed then?" he asked summoning a wolfish smile. "Should we strategize? Let's see... hand holding?"

"Not necessarily. Too... youngish?" she wondered, tapping a finger to her lips with mock thoughtfulness.

"Discreet touches, hmm?" he drawled as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I would not call THIS discreet."

"Perhaps you would prefer it if at the end of the evening, we let them catch us kissing in the hallway when they return with our cloaks." He nuzzled her neck and pulled her in tight against him with a hand to her lower back.

"Mmmmm," she purred, followed by, "But, don't you dare!"


	11. Chapter 11

They walked to the main house for dinner down the muddy track. Spring was decidedly leaving its wet mark on things. They took their time, Minerva watching Severus discreetly to see if he showed any signs of tiring, Severus indulging every excuse to subtly touch her. Asha met them at the door. Severus stood back to allow Minerva to enter first and did his best to look like a deferential gentleman. His eyes on Minerva and a slight smile on his lips, it was, he found, an easy role in her company. He held her chair for her at dinner and she would touch his arm occasionally when she spoke. Their performance was indeed being scrutinized, he noted, when he caught Niall watching his mother.

Niall asked how Severus had been, his eyes on the man's hands. "You seem much better. I haven't noticed any tremors."

"Well, I think I have lit upon a restorative, so to speak," Severus commented enigmatically. This stopped conversation and both Asha and Niall looked first from Severus, then to Minerva. And back again.

After dinner, Asha excused herself to go check on the young patients upstairs. She did not like to miss a bedtime, she told them and headed up the stairs.

"Perhaps we should be going as well," Minerva suggested with a look first at Severus and then at Niall.

"It is late. We seem to have lingered over dinner," Severus agreed. Turning to Niall he said, formally, "Thank you, Niall, for dinner."

"Are you going to walk back?" Niall asked the pair.

"Perhaps we could Apparate back, Severus?" Minerva suggested.

"Fine," he said, but he looked a bit wary.

"I'll get your cloaks," Niall told them.

Severus bit at his lip to keep from laughing, as the scenario he and Minerva had discussed the previous day started unfolding before them. Minerva stepped closer to him to shush him, and he put a hand to the small of her back. He bent his head to her ear and whispered in his most measured and pleasing tones, "Now? Should I let him catch me snogging his mother now?"

Niall cleared his throat, appearing at the doorway just as Minerva reproachfully and playfully slapped Severus on the chest. "Right-o," he said in a strained voice as he handed them the cloaks, and helped his mother on with hers.

"Let's talk tomorrow, Niall," Minerva said.

"Yes. Good night, mum."

Minerva turned her eyes to Severus and said, "Ready? Hold tight."

Severus locked eyes with her and put his hands on her waist. Minerva immediately Apparated them to the upstairs hallway of the cottage.

Severus swayed a little as he became oriented. "I was dreading that a bit," he admitted. "The Apparating... all these things I'm doing for the first time since recovering."

She squeezed his hand. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight? Just sleep, I mean." He was beginning to see the meaning behind their having Apparated to the hallway between the two bedrooms. "If you'd sleep better on your own, I understand," she told him.

"I'd like to be with you," he said simply.

They got ready for bed in silence. Minerva was pulling her nightgown on when she heard Severus begin coughing in the bathroom.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva called out.

He groaned. "Ah, it's this nerve tonic I've been working on. You remember at dinner I talked about a restorative."

"We all rather thought you meant me."

He stepped from the bathroom to look at her. "Do you think your romantic sensibilities are perhaps a bit overdeveloped?" He coughed again and shook his head violently as he reacted to the lingering taste in his mouth. "I've been doing some research. Asha got a number of books and supplies for me when you were gone. Most of what I've been working with are easily obtained ingredients."

"But it makes you gag?"

"Well, I think its the fish oil and sea salts. I've never particularly cared for either. The other ingredients seem innocuous enough. Perhaps it would be better if I didn't mix the chocolate in. Asha and Niall probably know some other tricks, ingredients that will not alter the efficacy of the main components, but will allow me to get this down... and well, keep it down."

"Fish oil, sea salts, and chocolate? I think I may be ill."

"My sentiments exactly. Of course, it may be that what's making me gag is the Kali Phosphoricum, knotgrass, hare's liver..."

"Wait, hare's liver? I would think that would exacerbate the nerve problems."

"I am working on the theory that the nerves need to be strengthened, not dulled. That's why the Calming Draught has been ineffective, I believe. It only results in lethargy while doing nothing for the tremors and other nerve problems. And I am not able to really combine the ingredients properly as the only cauldron I have is that battered old one that was in the trunk you brought here."

"Apparently, you should have packed better before your little near death experience, Severus," she said as she climbed into bed.

"Indeed."

"But you think this ... potion has helped."

"I'm fairly certain it has."

"I do not think that Niall and Asha would condone the idea of you experimenting on yourself," she pointed out.

"That is why I found it necessary to experiment on myself," he explained wryly.

"How Slytherin. Anyway, do brush your teeth very, very well, love, and then come to bed," she said dryly. "I will be careful not to jostle you and your repugnant contents."

* * *

He woke and she was already up and nearly dressed. She stood in front of an old full-length mirror doing the buttons at her blouse cuffs.

"Minerva?" he called.

"Aye? Yes, Severus?" She turned and saw him stretch sleepily. His pale chest was bare. The hair there was sparse. His dark locks were completely disheveled and she thought she saw some gray coming through. She moved closer to him, finally sitting on the edge of the bed, and reached for his hair.

"I hadn't noticed before, but I believe you are going gray at last, Severus," she commented.

He groaned. "Not 'at last,'" he said with his eyes closed. "I would say the charm that rendered my hair uniformly black was wearing off... 'at last.'"

"Well, I love it," she told him as her fingers played near his temple.

He opened his eyes slowly and rolled over on to his side so that he could touch her. "You should come back to bed," he said huskily.

His words riveted her. She felt nearly giddy inside as she slid her hand under the blankets to run it down his side. She smiled as she thought about him naked in her bed. _Should I dally?_ she thought. _Mmmm, yes._

* * *

"Oh, my," he managed later.

"I agree," she groaned.

"That was ... fast," he said sheepishly. "I had this notion that I could tease you for hours. But there was no way."

"Its not your fault, I'm too keen for you is all," she told him snuggling into the pillow. "As time goes on, you may get your chance," she said with a smile.

"I'm afraid I'll be no good at this," he said covering his eyes with his hands.

"On the contrary, you are _quite_ good at this," she asserted suggestively.

"Well, thank you," he fired off with aplomb. "But I meant, no good at the 'as time goes on' part." He peeked at her to see if she was following his meaning. "The relationship part. I am in uncharted territory here. The women in my life have not been _in_ my life for very long." He clarified caustically, "I did not usually find it necessary to use a calendar when calculating the length of my relationships."

"You don't have to explain, Severus. And you most certainly do not need to beat yourself up. And I hope you would not ask me to bemoan my past."

He looked at her wondering how to ask. "You didn't remarry," he intoned meaningfully.

"No. I was not against the idea. I like men. I like being in a relationship. But nothing worked out that way. I haven't been celibate all these years, if that is what you are asking. Although I was more celibate than I wanted to be," she complained. "I would be with someone for a while. A month or more. Hmmm," she said sadly, considering, "Or sometimes less. But it wasn't sustainable. Some men tumbled into my bed again and again over the years on something of a cicada's schedule," she mused. "But there was no one I fell in love with. Men I cared for deeply, but somehow never loved – not in the gut wrenching way that pulls you up short."

"Anyone I know?" he coaxed mischievously.

"Severus, such dangerous waters you tread," she scolded. "We worked at the same school for how many years? I would say that we know a great many of same people. So, I could ask you the same thing."

"I never slept with anyone on staff. Mostly, I... went elsewhere."

"Yes, but I am betting on a certain professor who visited from Durmstrang. I could see how she looked at you. She did more than look, too." He said nothing, but seem to grow uncomfortable. "I'm not trying to chastise you, Severus. I'm sorry," she told him with a hand to his arm. "All those years, even before I fell in love with you, I really hoped that you could be happy. I thought maybe she was someone who could make you feel that way."

"I'm not very good at happy." He rolled away a bit, casting his eyes to the ceiling, and seemed to relax. "I loved you, you know. For years."

"I wish I had known," she told him as she cast her arm across his chest to hug him gently. "I knew you liked to argue with me," she smiled. "To tease me, bait me. Play chess with me and even walk with me," she ticked off. "I felt I was someone you liked and trusted. But to be honest, I was all too sure that you felt... well, that I was a maternal figure."

"No," he said and gave a her a short laugh and a wicked grin. "That is definitely not how I saw you. But, I still felt like a Death Eater. I couldn't sully you. I couldn't face the things I had to do and have a relationship with you, our Perfect Minerva. I didn't expect you could love someone like me. Now, perhaps, I see that only you, my Perfect Minerva, could love someone like me."

"You need to stop calling me that. I never deserved that nickname."

"No, you never LIKED that nickname. You did deserve it," he countered. "Don't blame me, it was Rolanda who started it."

"That's a particularly juvenile defense," she said, failing to hide her amusement.

He rolled toward her now so that his face was very close to hers and he told her with a sly expression, "I had this fantasy that to make you fall in love with me, I would have to seduce you without you knowing it was me." She looked at him questioningly. "A sort of... Mask of Zorro thing."

"Mmmmmm," she purred appreciatively. "This is turning into a wonderful conversation. I do like fantasies. But I am afraid we really should get out of bed."

"You're right. Here Niall is afraid to come over because he might catch us in bed. It would be horrible if he was afraid to come over because he HAD caught us in bed."

"AT 11 AM no less. Up you go," she ordered with a push.

* * *

**Now, my husband (the one who read the last semi steamy scene and wandered off dazed) is insisting that this chapter should have had MORE details of that sort. Hmmmm. Some people are never happy. **

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	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: It seems I suffer from something I am terming Post-update Angst-driven Clarity (PAC). This means that only AFTER something is posted do I realize there is a need to change or add to it. This happened in the last chapter where Severus calls Min his Perfect Minerva. After the story was up a little bit I realized this sounded soppy if not explained as a biting little nickname that she had gotten at Hogwarts. So, this is a caveat that if you are the first to read a chapter, you may be reading things before my PAC sets in to help fix things. What a learning experience this has been for me, the first time writer. Thank you so much for sticking with me and encouraging me.**

* * *

Severus sat in the side room, a small stack of books on the ottoman in front of him. He was scribbling in the margins of a manual when he heard Minerva come in the front door.

She had gone up to the main house that morning to help Asha and Niall, as she had for part of every day recently. The small clinic was at capacity with the new cases that the defeat of Voldemort had brought them. There was a similar strain on healers at St. Mungo's, she knew. The work was not hard physically. Emotionally, however, she found it difficult to be with the patients. For most, all Niall and Asha could do was make them comfortable. Many were comatose, victims of curses that had damaged them as the Crutiatus had the Longbottoms. The children were another matter. Often healers could find nothing wrong with them, but they were unable to stay with their families because of their problems.

"Zoe asked about you today, Feste," Minerva said, smiling as she walked into the room. "She knows you and I are 'friends.' I guess she is doing better, still jumping every chance she gets, though. But, it's an improvement over the uncontrollable magic that she was prone to at first."

"How did she end up here?" Severus asked as he closed his book.

"There was just nowhere else for her. It's like that with a few cases. Sometimes their families find them frightening or unpredictable and are unable to care for them. Niall and Asha give them potions that are calming, or that cleanse their systems. They are checked for hexes and curses, obviously. None of this is foolproof though. Its frustrating work, I can see that." She placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "What have you been up to?"

"Reading."

"Yes. Obviously," she said looking at the book in his lap. "So, love," she told him, "It's been two weeks. You need to figure out what you want to do." He rolled his eyes at her, but she was undaunted. "I'm not telling you to run out and solve the world's problems," she continued. "Just figure out where you want to go, what you want to do. You are not the type to sit here in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do. Unless you are telling me that this is where you want to be?" she said skeptically.

And she walked out.

_She's right, _he thought._ Staying here is a mistake. But not for the reasons she is thinking. How can we live here in this cottage when her son is just up the road?_ _ Minerva has to be uncomfortable about it and it is going to drive Niall to distraction._

He considered things for a long time as he stared out the windows, his eyes on the mountains in the distance. Finally, he went looking for Minerva. She was not in the cottage and there was only the one out building, an old shack - a barn, if one was being particularly generous. He could see the door was open and he smiled, looking forward to finding her in there.

There were objects hanging from dozens upon dozens of hooks on the walls: old brooms, horse harnesses, a bicycle, garden implements and things he could not even begin to identify due to their age and the dim light inside. He picked his way through the clutter.

"Minerva," he called softly.

"I'm back here," he heard her say. He lifted his wand and silently commanded, "_Lumos!_" casting a gentle light. Then he saw her, hands on her hips, facing away from him. She was surveying the piles of objects on the work bench in front of her. He smiled to himself and closed the distance between them quickly so that he could wrap his arms around her from behind. She treated his embrace as a greeting and was surprised when he did not eventually release her. Instead, he began to kiss at her neck.

"What's gotten in to you?" she asked.

"I've been thinking," he breathed into her ear.

"Hmmmm," was all she managed dreamily.

His attentions began to change. Long powerful hands wandered from safe places to spots sure to entice her.

"Please," he said as he kissed her neck. And then, "Please," again, a touch of urgency rising in him. '_Please_,' _what a delicious word_, she thought, _coming from the dreaded potions master of Hogwarts._

"Tell me, Severus. What is it you want?" she teased in a low voice.

His hand traced down her side, gathering up bunches of her skirt until he was under the hem. He ran his hand up her thigh and said, finally, "You."

She moaned, but did not relent. "Oh, certainly," she answered in a business-like tone. "I can see that. It's been hours."

As he pressed against her, she needed to brace herself against the work bench. When his tongue travelled her neck, she was glad for something solid to hold onto. "Oh, Merlin," she cried out as she registered the hardness against her.

She turned in his arms to kiss him. But he broke off the kiss. She had no time to process her annoyance. His hands moved quickly to her hips and he lifted her up and sat her on the bench. The strength in his hands as he squeezed her thighs summoned something primitive in her. She pulled him in by the shirt front without thinking.

And she kissed him. Hard.

_Merlin_, he thought. The way this woman loved him, wanted him, fought with him, bested him. No other woman could incite him like this. So completely. So fast.

She moved her lips to his ear. "I don't want you to go." Wrapping her leg around his hip, she pulled him in, trying to pretend she meant just here and now.

And somehow it all made perfect sense that his emotions had busted open. "I love you," he told her. "I'm not going to go."

And then her hands were on his waistband, tugging him in, flicking open the buttons.

* * *

Later they sat out in the sun on a low, flat boulder, despite the chill to the air. Both of them looking at the old building they had just left. Then, Severus lay back and closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the warmth of the afternoon sunlight. As he replayed the sensations of their tryst, a small smile began to pull at the edges of his mouth. She watched him, knowing what he was thinking. She reclined by his side and whispered playfully, "Yes, well done, Severus. But was it really necessary to Vanish my knickers?"

"Hmmmm?" was all he managed still smiling. Finally he said, "I've been thinking."

"God, no. Severus. That's how this all started," she kidded.

"You did ask me to think about what I wanted to do and I've made a list. Number one: Sex some place exotic. Check."

"Ugh. Severus. That is a barn," she complained.

"I'll put that back on the list then." He opened his eyes quickly to see if this got him a response before he closed them again. "Two: Travel. That could help with number one," he told her impishly. Opening his eyes, he sat up and tugged at his coat to get comfortable. "And while we travel, I will solidify the ideas I have about potions work. I want to research potions directed at nerve problems."

Her look changed. "Yes," he said a little sardonically. "I did actually think about this. I want to be with you, but this proximity to Niall is a bit much for the two of you, understandably. We need to get away for a bit. And some place warm. You may call this spring, but I am not convinced."

"My mother never liked the climate here, either. I wasn't surprised when she moved to France after my father died," Minerva said. She paused a long while before she continued, "I haven't told her about you," she said softly. "Well, not recently. She wants us to visit. That's why she's on my mind, actually. She owled Niall today."

Severus stood up and helped her to her feet. There was a strange look on his face.

"What's bothering you, Severus?"

"Sons, mothers. All this family," he told her simply. "It is a lot for someone like me."

"I won't lie to you. My mother is a lot for anyone. But if you are up for travel we may as well go see her." She hugged her cloak to her, more because of the topic than the weather. "I will not hear the end of it if I don't. It won't take but an hour or two for her to throw us out, anyway."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Rated M for Mature content (sex). **

* * *

It was with relief, Severus thought, that Niall watched them prepare to enter the fireplace and start their journey. Once in France, they checked into Le Vieux Griffon, a small Wizarding establishment. Severus surveyed the room Minerva had booked them. The balcony and the large bath tub made him smile. They restored their belongs to their proper size and then Minerva lay down on the bed, looking as rigid and formidable as any standing Professor McGonagall ever had at Hogwarts.

"From here, we can Floo over to The Villas," she told him. That's what they call my mother's place. Its a facility for older witches and wizards who don't want to live on their own. Or who shouldn't. She has a nice apartment there and the staff spoils her."

"Are you ready to go?"

"Do I look ready to go?"

"No, you look like you are trying to avoid this."

She could not lie there with him staring at her. "Oh, alright," she grumbled as she got to her feet. She grabbed her cloak and fastened it. "Let's go."

She continued telling him about her mother as they walked to the lobby and the hotel's Floo. "You think I'm silly, warning you about my mother, I know. Just understand that she is immensely powerful, but at this point... well, unstable. She'd tell you I'm wrong on that one though, no doubt."

They stepped into the over-sized fireplace and the translucent green haze. They stepped out of a similar fireplace in a sunlit reception area at The Villas. There were tables sporting an eclectic array of vases and flowers where elderly residents conversed. Full bookcases and racks of newspapers and magazines lined the edges of the room. In the corner, two white haired wizards played a spirited game of Wizarding chess. Severus doubted any of this lot would recognize him, but he pulled at the scarf that hid his neck and scar and ducked his head a bit, avoiding anyone's gaze.

"Its not just age, although she is quite old," Minerva continued. "My parents married late and she was almost 50 when she had me. The way she is may have something to do with her work. She had a full career with the ministry before I was born."

"What did she do there?"

"I don't know. I don't know that I want to know," she told him with a serious look. "Departments were not as clearly drawn then. With her abilities I can see her as an Auror. An Unspeakable." She was rubbing her head now unconsciously. Severus reached up to pull her hand from her head.

"What are you worried about?"

"She's harmless, Severus. She is going to be completely embarrassing and she is going to try very hard to shock you or pull some admission from you. But, really, she is harmless." She exhaled audibly. "Except to me." Minerva indicated the door they now stood in front of. "Ready?" She gave him a sad smile and knocked on the door.

They entered the apartment and Minerva walked over to kiss her mother on the cheek. She was a genial looking woman with a rosy complexion and silver hair piled on her head. Her robes were fashionable and a sky blue most likely chosen to compliment her eyes, Severus thought. A large, silver clasp in the shape of a thistle secured her robes at the throat.

"Come here, Lad," Helen McGonagall told him without waiting for any introduction. She reached up to grab his coat and pulled him lower. He found himself on one knee in front of her like a knight before his queen. "Who are you, Severus Snape?" she asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "They tell me you are a hero."

"No. Just a fool," he replied before he knew what had sprung from him.

He stood up and stepped back with a look of surprise on his face. She seemed to leach information from people. He detected no use of Leglimency, but he felt just as plainly read. She just chuckled at him as he walked back a few paces to stand by the window.

"The spells I told you about, Minerva, I see you used them." The elder witch rubbed her fingers together as if the spells were fabric in her hand. "But, how is it there is half a bond between you? He did not use the incantation with you."

"Some things were left undone. But you can see it worked," Minerva said gesturing in Severus' direction. "There he is, alive and well." She took a seat next to her mother on the settee.

"Well, I can see what's between you. _Some_ things got done." Helen gave her daughter a disapproving look. "An imbalance is not a good thing. You should fix what's left undone. Or abandon the match."

"I've been told there are things that I cannot fix," Minerva said as much to Severus as to her mother.

"Aye. There are things we cannot fix. But it isn't the man that is the trouble. It is his past. He can leave that behind. There are doors we close. Places we should not go again."

"You know he can hear you, mother," she said flatly.

"Yes, and you know I don't care." Helen smiled. Lifting her chin, she called out to Severus, "There's no need to be afraid, my boy."

"Afraid?" he sniffed from his spot at the window.

"You are not afraid of much. I know," she said to him before she shifted her attention to her daughter. "But he's been afraid that keeping the mighty Minerva McGonagall happy might be more than he could manage. Well, and who wouldn't be afraid of that, eh, Severus?"

"God help me." Minerva murmured.

"You should stop sleeping together, Min, until you sort this out," she said in a horrible stage whisper. "It's only complicating things. You know how you get."

"Mother?" she pleaded. Minerva had dropped her head and begun to massage her temples.

"Alright. Enough!" Helen announced. "Out of here, Min. You act like I'm the problem! Go. And tell Asha and Niall to come see me."

They Floo'd back to the hotel and once in their room, Minerva walked straight for the bathroom, shucking her clothing as she walked. They had said nothing to each other since leaving her mother's. Finally, over the sound of running water, Minerva called out, "I'm taking a hot bath."

After about 15 minutes, Severus knocked on the door. He entered and took a seat on the closed lid without a word. "I'm sorry, Severus," she told him. "Invariably after I see my mother I end up with a migraine that can only be cured by a hot bath or shopping for something tartan.

"Why tartan?"

"My mother hates tartan."

"This explains a lot," he said to himself.

She closed her eyes and put her head back, sighing. He came to the edge of the tub and on his knees, he pushed the water up to reach her throat and rinsed her shoulders and arms. But he didn't touch her directly, not wanting to disturb her, or to tempt her or himself.

They continued on like that for some time until she asked him, "Will you get me a towel and my robe?

She stood in front of him and he dried her gently, reverently, without allowing himself to escalate the experience.

Watching him, she told him,"You are the most amazing audience an old woman has ever had, Love."

"Will you be cold if we went out on the balcony?"

"I'll be out in a minute. You go ahead," she replied.

When she had finished drying off, she put on her robe and walked toward the balcony. She found him leaning against the railing, enjoying the evening breeze.

"The balcony is a nice touch," he told her.

"I thought so."

She walked to him and he reached over her shoulders to fan out her hair and look at her intently.

Placing her hand on that spot over his heart, she closed her eyes and smiled as she felt herself travel on the sensations the touch provoked.

"Minerva?" he said, calling her back. He put his hand over her heart. "Minerva? I want to finish the Protection Incantation. I want to say it for you."

"Don't listen to my mother. There is no obligation, Severus."

"I feel compelled to do this, Minerva. Do you understand that feeling?"

"Yes, definitely," she answered him, "but why, suddenly?"

"When your mother told me there was no need to be afraid, she could sense that things had changed for me, I believe. I _had_ been worried about keeping you happy. But she said, 'And who wouldn't be afraid?'"

"Wonderful," she said sarcastically, "the two of you have conspired to make me insane."

"Minerva," he scolded. "The answer is, now that I really understand how much I love you, I'm not worried about keeping you happy. That was a childish thought."

She looked confused.

"When I told you I had loved you for years, I was wrong."

"Oh, my love. I don't understand."

He took her face in his hands and continued. "What I felt was more of an infatuation... it was such an incomplete notion of what it means to love someone and, oddly, I still hesitated to tell you. Now, knowing what it really means to love you?" He drew a breath in and shook his head, "Feeling this?" he said with surprise in his voice. "I _want_ to tell you. And I want to protect you, I want things to feel complete. So, will you help me with the spell, please, so that I can do those things?"

Silently, she was crying. Her warm tears ran onto his hands until he pulled her in against his chest. For a long time there was nothing to say.

He gathered up her left hand and placed it on his chest. He pressed his left palm over her heart and prompted her, "Tell me the incantation, Minerva."

She told him the spell in English first and then in Gaelic. He repeated her words, his eyes shut, his intent complete.

"Heavens," she hissed as the magic surged through her. She fell into him and he caught her. "I can feel your hand on my heart. Like an imprint." she whispered, astounded.

He raised her palm to his lips, as she had done with him months before, and kissed it. She seemed to weaken a little further.

He swept her up to carry her to bed and she protested feebly. He only snorted in amusement. "Yes, you are fine, Minerva," he told her as he placed her on the bed.

"The most amazing magic, Severus."

"I know," he agreed, smiling. He pulled off his clothes and stretched out beside her. Then, he tugged at her robe, exposing the spot over her heart and pressed his lips there. With a single finger, he traced over her lips, past her chin and to the hollow of her throat. His lips followed.

She murmured her contentment.

"Do you want more? Would you let me?" he asked as he placed kisses along her collar bone.

"Yes."

He opened her robe a little at a time to touch her and then to kiss her. His hands travelled over her, caressing her, preparing a trail for his mouth to follow. Her eyes closed. Her whole world was his hands and his mouth. She felt them move over her in tandem. Perfect, constant, unrelenting. Drawing a path miles long. Until she called out to him.

Then his lips returned to hers and she opened her eyes. She saw him hovering over her and she held him fast. "Do you know how much I love you?" she breathed. "Do you know? Do you?"

And with perfected ease, he slipped inside her. Slowly, he whispered over and over as they moved together, " I know, I do." Her questions, his answers. Reassurance and comfort. Until her eyes closed and her body pushed to meet his, then she willed herself to travel that final distance. She perceived a border in her mind and felt herself propelled past it. Transcendent.

She prompted him to follow and felt him start to shudder. And she held tight not wanting to let him go until she slept.

* * *

**Author's Note: ****I would love to tell you what my husband thought of THIS chapter but I am afraid to show it to him for fear he will sustain head damage on his way out of the room in a smut-induced fog. And before anyone worries, I have a wonderful relationship with my mother...  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Going out on a few limbs here. Come with me?**

* * *

"Good Morning," he said when he saw her eyes open. He stood on the threshold to the balcony with a cup of tea.

Her arms thrown wide, her body mimicked her mood – relaxed, sated. "Is there tea for me?" she called out.

"Other people just say 'Good Morning,' Minerva," he teased as he walked over to the side table to get her tea.

"Really, Severus. We're lucky I can form words at all this morning." Sitting up, she took the cup from him with both hands. "Ah, my hands work. We are in luck."

"Indeed?" he smiled from behind his tea cup.

"Come talk to me," she told him, patting the spot beside her on the bed. "Tell me about the potions work you want to do." He brought over a tray of croissants and she nibbled while they spoke. "Is this about your condition, Severus. Something for those recovering from overdoses of venom?"

"That is what started this line of thinking... But I became interested in finding a better way to treat nerve damage in people who were struck by curses." She looked at him questioningly. "When I spent the two weeks at the clinic, I learned that there are four people who have nearly identical symptoms."

"Which ones, Severus?"

"The Lipcots, James and Shelly. And then Frank Waldron and Michael Grossman. I believe they were all attacked by Antonin Dolohov. Niall is checking into some background information for me. I would not be surprised if Dolohov had a vendetta against James Lipcot and Frank Waldron. I believe Lipcot was a guard at Azkaban when Dolohov was there and, it was Waldron's father who turned in Dolohov years ago."

"But Antonin Dolohov's Curse would leave them dead or with internal injuries not ..."

"From what I learned from Death Eaters in those final months, Dolohov was working on subjecting people to a curse that would be a living death. Nerve paralysis. He viewed this as an improvement on his original curse. He would have used it for the first time only after he escaped from Azkaban in the final weeks. He wanted his victims alive so that they would be a reminder to the rest of us of his power."

Standing, he began to pace as he talked. The excitement of discovery was in his voice as he told her, "I have been talking with Asha and Niall about this. The nerve tonic is not as effective as it should be. It isn't targeted. But they think that working together we can develop something that will work on the nerves. It will involve their healing knowledge, some charms work, and the development of new potions. I don't know how many cases there are. But this is I want to do, Minerva."

"I'm glad you've found something, Severus. Some reason to move forward."

"There is a catch." His words had a firmness to them she did not like. "If I am to get access to the materials I require I need to use my credentials, and if any findings are going to carry any weight... I am going to have to resume being a Potions Master."

She nodded while she took in the importance of what he was revealing. "I think what you are saying, Severus, is that you want back into the world. You want to let the Ministry know you are alive."

"I am hesitant, Minerva. I want nothing to do with 99 percent of the world, wizarding or Muggle," he said frustratedly. "I will never be a popular person. Being associated with me will be more than unpleasant... you will be subjected to vitriol and condemnation."

"But the truth..."

He cut her off, "Entirely too many people care nothing for the truth. Too many people will not want to judge me on the balance of my actions, just the ones that affect them. Even if in the end accounting I was of value to the Order..."

"'Of value?'" she said incredulously. "You are a hero, Severus. No one risked more than you."

"But, no one did more to betray those loyal to Voldemort. And I am not innocent in the eyes of those who will always hate Death Eaters. You want to see what is good and what is right, Minerva. I know. But you have to expect the worst... the worst sort of reaction to my being alive. I don't want to do this to you." He was agitated, his fingers flexed repeatedly in nervous fashion.

"I have said I am up for this Severus." She gave him a firm look. "You need to go to the Ministry, let them know you are alive."

"There is another problem, Minerva. Someone will want to see you prosecuted. When I resurface, you will be left open to charges from the Ministry for faking my death," he said.

"I don't care. I stand by what I did. It was wrong, but I did it."

"We should get married then. You'll marry me?" He stood over her now and his words were quiet.

She ignored his discomfort other than to reach out to squeeze his hand. "I'm not against the idea, but you don't need to marry me as part of revealing yourself to the Wizarding community, surely.

"Once the Ministry acknowledges that I am alive, you will be asked to account for what you did in hiding me and faking my death. I want to be with you when that happens. As your husband." He looked a little sheepish. This was pretty heady talk for Severus Snape.

"So, if we do get married..._ How_ do we do it? I would need to marry a dead man."

"We could have a muggle wedding. When we present the paper work to the Ministry for them to validate, then they can decide what will happen about me being alive."

As the thoughts fell into line for her, her eyes grew wide and her voice took on its old confident cadence. "I know an old vicar in Aberdeen. Retired fellow. It would be nice if he could marry us. Maybe we can do this," she said with a smile. "We'll need to get all our paperwork together and then visit him... when we get back."

"Where are we going next?"

"Oberammagau, Germany," she told him happily. "After that, its your choice."

"I'm taking you to Lamu."

"Lamu? Kenya? I'll need a swim suit."

"Not necessarily. The beaches are often quite deserted," he said as evenly as he could manage.

* * *

He was unprepared for the joy he would see in her in Oberammagau. Her smile was full, her energy, unstoppable. The second morning there he had come out of the bathroom to see her dressed in pants. He tried not to act surprised.

"Mmmm, you've gone native. Lederhosen?" he said.

"Nein. Bundhosen. Knickers. Short pants."

Her words fell away and her eyes moved to his now much-shorter hair. But she would refrain from saying what she was thinking, he knew. She, like him, would enjoy, but not voice the memories and the sensations her gaze provoked.

_She had talked him into the hair cut on their last night in France. It had been a silent and strangely intimate act, heavy with the joint awareness that it, like so much else they did, was an exploration of the extents of the relationship. She snipped the front of his hair where the grey was coming in. Rubbed at his brow, blew the trimmings softly away. He let her take her time, lost to the fingers in his hair and the silent smile above him. Cautiously, he ran a hand up her side to hold her about the ribs, his hand framing her breast. "Severus," she warned, the only words spoken in twenty minutes. The scissors up now, pointed away. Her eyebrows were a question to him. What will you do? His hand trailed safely down, he sighed, his eyes drifted shut and he pulled in the smell of her. His hand to her back, he eased her to him. The softness of her breasts nudged at his cheek as she took a step in, settled her weight, stooped her chin to the top of his head. Arousal pulsed in him and he knew he would bed her before he even brushed away the stray hairs at the back of his neck. And he knew after weeks of being with her, knowing her breathing, the things her fingertips told him, that she shared his anticipation. She pushed against him with her hips and her hands as she levered herself upright. "Almost done," she told him with effort. _

After breakfast in town, they walked to the outskirts of Oberammagau. Severus had thought the wanderings were aimless that brought them to the edge of a farmer's field. Looking up to the top of a rocky peak across from them, he was non-plussed, she radiant.

"It's not a bad little walk to the top, Severus," she told him reassuringly. "I came here years ago with my cousins. We could see the way to the trail," she said pointing to the gap in the trees, "but I didn't want to walk around this field. I was always looking for the short cut." She started laughing. "So, I jumped the fence. Landed right on my backside in the mud. Over there stood the very amused cows. And there," she said indicating the railing Severus leaned on, "the very amused cousins. I hit so hard that day I feel like there should still be an imprint in the mud 50 years later," she said peering over the fence.

Severus turned and started walking around the paddock. When he looked back he saw Minerva was now sitting on the fence.

"Today I am going to be more careful," she announced through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Minerva. No," he said resignedly. She landed unsteadily, putting a hand down to catch herself. With quiet pride she raised her hand to show him the scant mud on her palm.

"Not bad," she said smiling.

There was little choice but to follow her. Grumbling, he climbed half way up the fence and then kicked his long legs over. He trotted the few yards to come along side her. Severus was sure there would be a confrontation as they crossed the enclosed space – either with an irate farmer or a displeased cow - but they made it to the far side, muddy but unharmed.

They took up a slow, deliberate pace on the trail that snaked through the forest. On the crest of the hill's shoulder there was a fork in the trail. A sign with an arrow pointed off to the left. "Nur für geübte?" Severus read haltingly.

"That means we're not going that way. 'Only for the experienced,'" she translated. "Still, it's a bit of a climb our way."

The final bit of their ascent was accomplished with the help of the steel cable that someone helpful had bolted into the rock. Minerva went first and Severus took great pleasure in getting to push her bum up the last bit. He was rewarded with the sound of her giggle. He shook his head in cheerful disbelief. A giggle? From Minerva McGonagall. And then she flopped over and sat on the rock at the top. He scrambled up over her and stretched out next to her.

It was early still and there was a mist and a biting breeze at the top. The wind prompted him to sit behind her and to wrap his arms and legs around her. They sat in silence and looked at the town and green fields below. Off to their right was the final summit, just a simple 20 foot climb to an iron cross that was no doubt the reason many climbed here. Severus lowered his head to Minerva's shoulder and tried very, very hard to cement every recent wondrous feeling over the evil that lay below in his memory.

When they were ready to descend they stood and stretched. Minerva caught his hand and asked him, "How do you feel about God?" Her words startled him, although they were softly spoken.

"What sort of question is that, Minerva?" he accused.

"When we get to Aberdeen, my friend Gil, the rector, will ask you." She sounded apologetic. "If we are to be married in the church, he'll want to know... if you believe."

"I've spent a very long time not believing in anything. Not even in the possibility of a future."

"I understand that. But what about now?"

He looked at her askance, as if there should be no difference. He quickly eyed the iron cross on the craggy outcropping beside them and then turned his back to it. "Minerva?" he said, pained as if he had been betrayed.

"No, Severus," she told him gently. "I am not asking you to adopt anything. It's not a test. It was just a question. Let it be. I won't ask again."

* * *

In Lamu they stayed in an old white-washed guest house in the labyrinth of the old town. Their room was a mix of white stone walls and dark carved wood. The beds were old affairs: thin mattresses and creaky springs.

She slept fitfully and was awakened before the sun by the neighboring mosque's call to prayer. The tinny loudspeaker had roused Severus as well and he groaned, rolled to her and pulled her in. She did not know what to expect, and lay there in the dark pondering the otherworldly nature of the experience when another muezzin began its drone. One distant, one near, they overlapped oddly.

"What time is it?" she asked incredulously.

"Sunrise is another hour off. Go back to sleep." But she knew sleep was a hopeless task. All this travel, all these strange beds, had left her tired and disjointed. Her muscles complained as she stood and walked to the window to rest her head on the pane. The little she could see only made her sense of disconnect more complete. Lamu was like nothing else she could remember. She eased out of the room and to the communal bathroom down the hall. The faucet creaked, the water was colder than she could bear. But she rubbed at her face with it. "Oh, Severus," she complained to herself. "What are we doing?"

When she returned to the room, she found the sun had begun to fire up the sky's high clouds. The colors changed as she watched them, crimson and orange, later blistering yellows. Finally, the sunlight extended to the bed and her unlikely lover. She watched him, the only familiar thing, the only anchor for her here. And he, as a lover, was such a recent thing. Looking at him only added to the chaos in her brain.

After they had dressed and eaten, they threaded their way through the old town to the ocean beyond. It was as he had suggested. The beach was empty. With their backs to the dunes, they walked the expanse of white sand to the water. There were scattered depressions, potholes that were filled with the tide's leavings. Severus stopped and stood next to a pool of water and he said, "This is what made me think of bringing you here."

_A puddle,_ she thought. _You dragged me half way around the world because of a puddle?_

He reached for the kanga he had wrapped around her shoulders that morning and then pulled at the light dress underneath. "Take off your clothes and get in with me," he whispered. They stripped down to their swim suits and stepped into the water. She groaned at the lovely warmth and the feel of the wet sand. She settled in to the water and smiled at him appreciatively. "Oh, well done Severus."

"I know how you like hot baths," he said simply.

...

In their dark room that night, she sat up wearily, hugging herself, her heart surging in her chest. It was like this too often when the demons in her memory took over her sleep.

The bedsprings creaked as he rolled over. She wanted to apologize for waking him, but did not trust her voice. "Do you want to tell me?" he asked as his hand found her back and began to trace a gentle pattern. The minutes bore her silence until she sighed.

"It's always the same. It's the children. Screaming. Colin Creavey and the younger ones. They shouldn't have been there. And lately I see Zoe there. Isn't that ridiculous? She's just standing there in all that chaos and I can't get to her." She had yet to look at him. She wouldn't, she knew. Fears and pain were hard enough to talk about without the complication of eyes betraying you. "Do you still have nightmares, Love?"

"You know the answer," he replied flatly.

"As bad as they were?"

"No. I see the same things now. But I'm not involved somehow. I seem to have just accepted the nightmares as part of me. As part of the past. And they got easier somehow."

...  
She was tired and distracted all that next day. He knew she had not been sleeping well in Lamu and it weighed on him. They spent a quiet day in town and then after an early dinner he took her to the roof of the guest house. She walked out into the sunlight and looked off at the expanse of sky, roof tops and ocean.

He came up behind her and whispered, "We'll have it to ourselves tonight. I know you haven't been able to sleep in the room." She turned in surprise and looked past him. And there, under an awning, was their mattress and linens with extra pillows. Water, wine, fruit, a lantern, and a CD player stood on a low table. Two deck chairs sat in the sunshine side by side. She was stunned.

They sat in their deck chairs and read for an hour. She left him on the roof to take her shower and returned wet and happy in a gauzy nightgown. She curled up on the mattress. "Oh, this is much better Severus. No squeaky springs, a cool breeze..." she called out. He came over wordlessly and sat next to her. She reached up to touch his face and told him, "Thank you. I can't tell you how wonderful it is that you would do this. That you care enough to do this."

"I'm learning. It never made sense to me before... that it was not weakness or dominance." He shook his head as he did so many times in discussing their relationship. "That it is reciprocal. Ongoing..." He kissed her. "... pleasurable."

That night they lay in the bed together. The inky sky and its million stars felt so close, it was as if he was suspended amongst them. He had no doubt it was a spiritual sight for some. But it was the weight of this sleeping woman's head on his shoulder that provoked his thoughts. He felt something swell in him. Something full and sustaining. Something flawless and perfect grew from the juncture where he held her. This connection, this new thing created, this off-shoot, had a discernible presence. There was more here than the sum of the two people who lay together. He was an intelligent man, he thought... So, he asked himself: what made that so?

"Minerva," he said gently, waking her. "If God is love. If that is what it is. If that is what God feels like. I believe."

"Yes, love," she said, casting her arm around him. "That's what I think."


	15. Chapter 15

**Look, it's MyMadness, out on a limb again in her longest climb yet! This chapter is brought to you by three different cold medications and Diet Coke (so, be gentle). Amazing what you can do while coughing up a lung and suppressing a revolt on Lilliput. Thank you, Selmak, for suggesting I deal with Albus. It really was over due. **

* * *

Severus and Minerva walked back to the cottage from their welcome home dinner at the main house. She took his arm gently as she told him, "You are holding up well."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I know you are a private person, Severus. If you had your druthers we would just go get married. And here I have made you sit through telling Niall and Asha, and all the resultant back thumping and congratulations." As they passed through the front door to the cottage, she added, "You will be glad to know I have decided to just inform my mother by owl." She put her light cloak in the closet. "There really isn't much more to do, we'll go to Aberdeen tomorrow..."

"But before we turn in, I thought you might like to dance with me," he said extending his hand. When she took it, he led her to the side room.

"I thought you didn't like to dance, Severus." Her voice was a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

"I thought compromise was good for a relationship."

She looked at him skeptically. "Scratch the surface of a Slytherin and find a Hufflepuff. Who knew?" she teased.

He stepped into her and placed a hand on her waist.

She raised her hand to summon the needle on the old gramophone to the record. As the piano on the song banged out, Minerva leveled her eyes at him and said accusingly, "_Someone_ has been into my record collection." He could tell she wanted to stamp her foot over this, but she was trying hard not to.

"Joe Cocker," he said with a devious smile.

"You're a Joe Cocker fan?"

"Yes, yes, yes," he said mimicking the vocals.

"_Baby take off your coat," _came the vocals. Severus sang the second line along with Joe Cocker,_ "Real slow."_

"Severus, this is not much of a dancing song."

"_Take off your shoes," _came Joe Cocker's voice.

"I'll take off your shoes," Severus sang.

"You've not been hexed or anything, have you?" Minerva said trying to feign concern. "I could get Niall to check you out."

"_Baby take off your dress. Yes, yes, yes," _Severus whispered in her ear with the music.

"You know, I cannot take you seriously like this..."

"_You can leave your hat on,_

_You can leave your hat on,_

_You can leave your hat on," _Joe Cocker crooned as Severus hummed along.

"Severus? Will you just SAY something..."

"I think you are talking too much," he told her with a straight face. Leaning in, he nipped at her ear lobe, causing his name to come out as a stammer when she said it. "This is a seduction, Woman," he teasingly chided. And he moved his hands to her shoulders to pull off her outer robes. "I feel ridiculous having to explain that to you."

He tossed her robes over a chair and she extended her arms to him, telling him in a tired and exasperated voice, "Fine, lovely, I go willingly." But, suddenly her actions belied her voice. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth before kissing him in earnest. Happily surprised, he was able to shrug off his coat and start on her blouse buttons between kisses. She gestured toward the gramophone to stop the needle from bumping at the end – the song long over. And then she extinguished the lights.

Stooping quickly, he caught her behind the knee with one hand, and drawing her leg up and leaning her back, he lowered her to the floor.

"Here, Severus?" she complained, registering that the wool rug was doing little to cushion her from the plank floor. "Its going to be..."

"It's going to be wonderful," he breathed.

* * *

When Severus met the Reverend "Gil" Gilchrist, he wondered that he had felt any anxiety about it all. The small, elderly man was completely disarming. Minerva had warned Gil in advance that she was planning a wedding and so, the conversation had begun as a largely casual affair.

The rector stood 2 inches shorter than Minerva and had to reach up to her face to pat her cheeks when he greeted her. "Oh, my lass. Oh, little Min," he said, happily. "Come to get married, eh? Good for you." Severus was then welcomed with glee by the little man.

"We'll sit in the garden, if that's alright. Talk a bit and pick a date. Good?" he said as they followed him from the office. They left the side door of the church to sit in the shade on two benches.

They talked about how long Severus and Minerva had known each other. Gil looked over their paperwork, the birth certificates and baptismal certificates, and he nodded. "Too many wizarding families let their Muggle paperwork slide," Gil said. Severus looked at him with one eyebrow cocked high. "My cousin went to Hogwarts," the rector said with a gravelly little chuckle and a wink.

Minerva grew quiet and looked over to Severus before she told Gil the heart of the matter - that Severus was presumed dead by their world. At first, in her telling, she avoided mentioning any involvement. There was just the mere statement, 'he is believed dead.' But then the color drained from her face, surprising Severus.

Gil took up Minerva's hand with care. "What is bothering you, Min?" he asked quietly.

"I will be glad to be done with this, in truth. It has been difficult. Lying to people." She paused to gather her breath. "The worst of it, Gil, is that I took someone else's body. I don't know whose. A Death Eater. I prepared it for the funeral. Signed the paperwork. I felt I had to do those things... That sounds conceited, I know."

"But this is the beginning of the end of that, yes? You are putting it all right. Starting here," her old friend prompted.

She nodded.

"And things can stop being about death and be about living. 'The Lord conquered death with death,'" Gil said, quoting the Easter sermon. "Easter, two weeks ago," he said to their puzzled faces. "You should have been here."

"We were in Lamu." Minerva admitted.

He smiled at her discomfort over this new disclosure. "Oh, Min." And then he patted her hand firmly and told her, "I just meant that every once in a while, we win. Even when death is involved. You'll get married. You'll set things right. And you'll have the strength you need to settle your accounts, to face what you have done."

"Yes," she agreed with a firm smile.

Gil stood up and hugged Minerva. Severus looked distracted and pale. Finally he stood, shaking the man's hand as Gil quickly apologized for having to rush off.

...

Severus watched Minerva. Her eyes were on the retreating form of her old friend. _And what of those made to serve death_, Severus wondered. He felt the blood in him boil in stark contrast to her placid features_. __This talk of confessions. Conquering death._ _To face what I have done? _his mind thundered in mocking tones.

"Confessions, Minerva?" He said pulling at her sleeve. She looked back at him with a smile that evaporated when she saw the blackness to his eyes.

"I came here to talk to Gil about getting married, Severus. But, he is someone with whom I can unburden myself. I don't know why, but I couldn't ask him to marry us until I had told him everything."

"Everything?" Severus said coolly_. "_But you omit the matter of an old man's death,"he said, unwilling to use Albus' name.

She would not touch him. Not when he was like this, when the dark part of his soul became all of him. "That is your demon, one you have insisted on keeping to yourself. You know I hold you blameless. And I would help where I could."

The offer hung there between them. She would hear whatever he had to say. Assuage the wounds. Make it as right as love could make it. If. If he would open to her. But when his lips parted to speak all he said was, "Let's go home."

And that, his reference to a home, jointly held was enough victory for today.

* * *

It was two weeks later when Minerva walked quietly in to the Hogwarts infirmary looking for the school matron. But she needn't have worried about disturbing anyone, as the place was deserted. Years of experience quickly alerted Poppy that someone was there and she left her office to investigate. "Minerva! What are you doing here?" Poppy called to her.

"I have something very important to tell you," she said once they were closer together. "Well, to show you. But it is very secret and a little shocking."

"I assure you, after all the years I have spent in my profession, nothing shocks me."

"I need you to come with me. To an event. A wedding," Minerva explained.

"What? Am I your date?"

"No. You are standing up for the bride. But you can tell no one when you come back. Do you understand?"

"Oh, now I am intrigued," she said heading for her office to get her cloak. "I'll need to call someone to cover for me here and then I am all yours." Poppy disappeared back into her office to make the necessary arrangements. "You have not been up to this much mischief and secrets in years, Minerva," she said when she returned. "And I swear you look like you are about to pass out," she told her friend with concern. "But you won't tell me anything?"

Minerva shook her head gently, her lips in a tight line.

Once outside, they walked to the Hogwarts gate. They walked in silence until they passed the stone work at the edge of the grounds. "Things are going to become very self-explanatory, very quickly," Minerva said as she stopped to face her. "Just hold on tight." Minerva meant this figuratively and literally as they had reached the Hogwarts boundry and Minerva then Apparated them to Aberdeen.

When they walked into the church, Minerva took Poppy by the arm, inciting a protest, "You don't need to hang on to me like that, Minerva. I am going to be fine. Shock or no. After all, you've said its a wedding. Not a funeral."

They passed through the vestibule and into the body of the church. The lighting was low, but Poppy could see a lanky figure in profile standing 10 yards away, his hand on a pew.

"My God," she said. "He looks just like..."

"It is, Poppy, it's him. It's Severus."

Seeing them, Severus began taking large steps over to quickly meet them.

"Minerva. My God." Poppy's voice shook and her hands dug into Minerva's arm as Severus walk toward her.

"Severus?" Poppy said in a frightened voice. "Say something. Tell me it's you."

"It's me, Poppy." His steps eased as he approached her. He rotated his palms outward and held his arms out to the sides in a posture of supplication.

She let out a cry and wrapped her arms around his chest while he put a hand to her shoulder. "Oh, you bastard. You beautiful, horrible bastard. The two of you will be the death of me," she said as she released him. "I just said all of that in a church. Didn't I?"

"It gets a tad more frightening, Poppy," Minerva said smiling. "When you are ready, we will start the ceremony." She nodded toward the front of the church where Niall and Asha and the rector sat in the front pews.

"I need air," Poppy announced and turned on her heel. Severus and Minerva each took an arm and they guided her out the two sets of double doors.

"I said I needed air, not a procession of nannies. You can let go." She shook them off and sat down abruptly on the stone steps. Minerva and Severus followed suit.

"I'm standing up for the bride?" she said.

"Me," Minerva told her simply.

"And you are marrying Severus?"

"Yes," Severus supplied.

"I thought you left Hogwarts because of him," Poppy whispered. "Because you were distraught over his death. I've been so worried about you." And Poppy began to cry as Minerva put an arm around her.

The doors behind them swung open. They looked up to see Niall holding the door for Reverend Gilchrist. The rector's vestments shone in the light that sprung from the church. He clasped his hands in front of him in that clerical way and looked down at Poppy.

"My girl. Relief, joy, surprise. What have your friends done to you?" he said shaking his head. "But it feels good, doesn't it? To have such a full heart. To be a part of the best parts of living, eh?"

"Yes," she said standing, suddenly feeling very resolute. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

...

After the simple ceremony, the two couples return to the Estate for a wedding dinner. Poppy had insisted on returning to Hogwarts.

"Poppy has threatened us with a wedding reception in the future," Minerva told them over dinner. "A wedding does not actually belong to the bride and groom, she explained to me. It seems we are in danger of denying her something to which she feels quite entitled."

"I think a party sounds wonderful," Asha put in.

A house elf popped in at dinner. "What is it?" Niall asked.

"Zoe's not in her bed, Master." And the elf popped out.

"I'll just check around downstairs a bit," Niall said and left the dining room.

The house elf popped back in, her hands flailing. "The pond! The pond!" The nervous creature popped back out immediately, unable to sustain her presence under the pressure of her emotions.

Severus was the first on his feet. Flinging back his chair he was out of the room and headed for the front door.

"This way, Severus," Minerva yelled, calling him back, motioning toward the side doors. With her wand she flung the doors open before they reached them. Severus slipped on the flag stones outside, but recovered without falling. In the moonlight Zoe was plainly visible surrounded by water. Severus jumped down the four stairs from the patio out to the lawn and tore across the grass blind, Minerva on his heels.

Minerva heard him splash into the water, heard his frantic attempts to latch on to the girl. With every footfall she sent up a prayer until she was next to the pair. Severus hefted Zoe and walked out of the pond. There was a tortured look on his face.

Minerva looked at the girl – Her eyes unnaturally wide, her mouth open in pain, but there was no sound.

"It's as if she's petrified, Severus." Minerva said.

"No. She's screaming," Severus told her. "Why is she screaming?" The sound made him whince, but Minerva heard nothing. The girl's eyes met his and without thinking, he was in her brain.

In her mind, he saw a scene at night. Water. Two people, a man and a woman, shackled. Shuffling in to a lake. He felt as if he was thrashing about in her mind as he had in the pond trying to reach her. He spun, casting his eyes across the scene, not knowing what else to do.

"_Girl, show yourself_. E_nough of this. We need to leave this place,_" he called.

A shadow of Zoe appeared at his side. _Feste, where did they go? Why are they gone? Why? _Came the small, pleading voice.

He faced the mental image of her and when the small cold hand touched his, his tongue cleaved hopelessly to the roof of his mouth.

_Feste! Can you help me? Please? c_ame Zoe's desperate words.

His legs weakened and he felt himself collapse. As he slipped down, someone was lifting Zoe from him. He let himself sink, knowing he was relieved of the girl. Then he recognized Minerva's scent hovering above him. But it was Asha's eyes he met first. She was examining his pupils with her wand.

"Off!" was all he managed to mutter.

"How do you feel?" Asha asked.

"I'm fine," Severus said unconvincingly as he sat up.

"Take your time, but when you are ready, will you come up stairs to talk to us? I want to know what happened out here. But right now I'm going to go back in and check on Zoe," Asha said.

And Asha Apparated back to the house.

Minerva put her hand to his cheek. "Niall took Zoe back to the house," she told him. "Can you tell me what happened? What made you pass out?"

"There was some sort of connection. At first it was only that I could hear her screaming when apparently you couldn't. And then it became something like unintended Leglimens. I saw two people who acted as if under the Imperius. And Zoe was there. The more agitated she became the more draining it was on me. "

"Can you get up, Severus? Let's get inside." He groaned and got to his feet. "Hold on, Love," she said and he knew she would Apparate them to the house.

Once inside she cast a drying spell at her husband. Seeming not to notice, he continued on his way to the staircase, taking a seat on a step.

"Can't you tell me more about Zoe?" he said as if the world tried his patience horribly. "Why is she here? Where are her parents?"

"Why the sudden interest, Severus?" she snipped. Her mood had slid to match his. "That poor girl has been hanging on your coat tails for three months and you've never seemed to give it a second thought."

"Perhaps," he hissed through gritted teeth, "because I was just knee deep in a pond on her account or because I was completely submerged in her rather-distasteful subconscious. Take your pick."

She wanted to walk away, but stood her ground in the hopes that they could piece together something to help Asha and Niall with Zoe. "Her parents are missing. They're most likely dead. Zoe was found by Aurors. She was wandering near her home and taken to St. Mungo's because she seemed to be in shock. But, Healers there didn't know what to do with her. They sent her here because no standard treatment seemed to help her. Her only relatives are quite old and can't care for her."

"Even when inside her brain, I didn't get any information from her . All she did was ask me 'why, why ,why' as if I would know what the hell was going on in _her_ head."

Minerva's jaw went completely slack in disbelief. "She's four and a half!"

"Was I supposed to say 'pretty please, tell the nice man why you are screaming?' I am not any good with children."

"Yes. The whole world had already figured that out. I am glad you are not too far behind the rest of us."

Without another word she got up from her spot on the stairs. His voice called out to her, "Where are you going ?"

"There is chocolate in the kitchen. I am getting you some."

"That would be wonderful," he said caustically, "IF I was suffering from the dementor's kiss."

"I think it is applicable whenever someone has had 'the happy' COMPLETELY sucked out of them. You probably should have been receiving a daily dose for 40 years now."

"Which would explain Albus Bleeding Dumbledore trying to ladle something sweet down my throat every 5 minutes for 15 years," he sneered as he levered himself up from the step.

She froze and with her back to him still, she said quietly, "All this time - nothing, and you bring him up like that... tonight?!" When no reply came, she turned to see him standing there frozen, his eyes vacant.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't believe what he had said. He had steadfastly avoided talking about him despite her offer to listen. And then to have thrown it out there like that... 'Albus Bleeding Dumbledore'.

His little sojourn in Zoe's mind must have unsettled him more than he realized.

For a moment he couldn't move, having been rooted to the ground by the knowledge that he was a perfect idiot. With a breath, his gaze switched from distant to suddenly focused. "Bugger it," he muttered. And then he strode purposefully for the kitchen door.

"Where are you going?" she asked as he passed her.

"I hear there is chocolate in the kitchen." He paused, but would not look at her. "And if there is any chance my ingesting some will salvage our wedding night, I am going to do that!" And he pushed through the swinging door.

She gave him a minute in the kitchen alone and then followed. "Severus," she said gently to his back.

His back was to her, his hands resting on the kitchen counter. He made no move to face her when he said, "The wedding night bit... if that came across as my saying it was about the sex, it's not."

"I know," she told him as she reached past him, found the chocolate in a jar and placed some in front of him.

"I don't deal well with other people's pain. A child's pain is only worse."

"I know."

"And I do want to talk about him. But you are right. Not here. Not now."

...

They moved back to the foyer to wait for news on Zoe. They sat on the steps, their hands entwined.

"I think it likely that Zoe's parents were placed under the Imperius by Death Eaters and made to drown themselves," he told her. "At least that seems to be what I saw."

Minerva's look was shocked, but she had no chance to ask him to explain more. They heard Niall address them as he trudged down the steps, "Asha's with her and she's asleep now. We gave her some Calming Draught. What a monumental cockup," Niall said, running his hands over his head. His eyes were large and unfocused.

"What are you talking about, Niall?" Minerva asked.

"Merlin, its amazing something didn't go wrong before. We are so short staffed here. The cases we got were the ones that were so bad off their families couldn't take them and St. Mungo's decided there was nothing they could do. Irreversible things. Undefinable things. That would be Zoe."

"Well why haven't you gotten any help from St. Mungo's."

"They are understaffed too, mum. But you are right. I should have gotten more help in here. Something."

"You had just checked a half hour before, Niall, and everyone was sleeping," Severus said to be accurate rather than comforting.

Niall turned around on the stairs and walked back up.

"I worry about that boy," Minerva whispered in a serious tone.

"He's bright. He's competent. I don't know why you would worry, Minerva."

She laughed, lifted from her mood by the innocent, short-sightedness of Severus' comment. "Motherhood doesn't work that way, Severus." She patted him on the back and smiled at his confounded look. "Oh, sure Niall is good at so many things, but he barely takes care of himself. He overworks, forgets to eat. Sleeps in his clothes." She looked embarrassed. "Or at least he did. I was never so happy as when Asha agreed to marry him." She exhaled audibly. "Let's go upstairs and see Asha. She's probably beating herself up over this, too. And you need to tell them what happened with the Leglimens."

...

"I don't understand tonight," Asha was saying as they walked in to Zoe's room. Asha lifted her eyes sadly to Minerva. "She has had uncontrolled magic. Night terrors, tremors. Fears, anxiety. But she seemed to control much of this with repetitive behaviors. "

"The jumping," Severus said.

"Yes. There has been jumping, rocking, singing. But, nothing like this before."

"Severus needs to tell you what happened out at the pond," Minerva said taking up a seat.

"She wasn't trying to drown herself," Severus told them. "At a certain point, I was in her mind or her memories and I was able to communicate with her, I believe."

"That doesn't sound like Leglimens," Niall said, rousing himself from his sulk. "What did you say?" Niall pressed.

"I just kept repeating, 'Enough girl.' And I told her to leave that place. I told her 'there are doors we close, places we do not go again.'"

Minerva shot him a hard look, recognizing the words her mother had told them.

"I didn't know what else to say," he admitted to Minerva. "If you tell me that her magical abilities present themselves in unexpected and powerful ways... it could be that she initiated a sort of leglimens with me. A drawing in. I heard her address me in my mind and I could feel her fear and sense of guilt as we both witnessed what I believe to be her parents' murder."

Minerva exlpained, "Severus believes Zoe's parents were placed under the Imperious and made to weigh themselves down before walking into a lake."

"Zoe seems to have witnessed this," Severus said.

Niall sat stunned. Asha looked over to the sleeping girl and stroked her hair. "Oh, my dear girl," she murmured shaking her head.

"The girl's... talents remind me of your grandmother's," Severus said to Naill. "Perhaps you should consider if she can help."

"My mother?" Minerva complained.

"Desperate times..." Severus threw out.

"Yes, yes. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And that is exactly what I would call such a scheme," Minerva concluded sharply.

"We can handle things here," Asha said as she stood. "Really. I don't want you to feel you have to delay your Honeymoon."

Minerva rubbed her head as if she had forgotten the day's events. "My goodness. What time is it Severus?" she said as she cast a sad glance at Zoe.

"It's almost midnight. We could just stay at the cottage tonight," Severus offered.

"No. Let's go. We've got a lovely room waiting for us in Edinburgh. JERBY!" Minerva called and the house elf appeared.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Please go over to the cottage and pick up the three suitcases we've reduced. They are sitting by the door, I believe."

And the house elf was gone with a snap and a pop.

A short time later, Niall and Asha stood in front of the fireplace to see Severus and Minerva off. "Please let us know how things go here, Niall. You've got our itinerary," Minerva said.

"We will do nothing of the sort, Mum," Asha answered for him. "Just go. Enjoy yourselves. We are going to be fine here." As the Floo took hold of them and there was no chance of a reply, Severus heard Asha's impish voice, "Take good care of her, Dad."

...

In the dark he whispered her name. Concealed here, he knew he might fix things. Say the things he couldn't when he looked at her. "Can we talk about him?"

She knew what he meant. Albus.

He held her face as if he could see into her eyes "You don't blame me now?"

"I _never_ blamed you, Severus."

"How could you have known the truth?"

"I don't know, Severus, because that bastard told me nothing of his plan." She shook her head and smiled. "Maybe it was insanity? Faith?"

"Your faith?"

"My faith in _you_, that you were a good man. I'm a stubborn woman, Severus, I believed what I wanted to believe. I thought of a hundred other ways things could have happened. Curses, glamours, hexes, deceptions... I never, never let myself believe you were guilty. After all," she said with a wry smile his hands could feel, "it was Albus who said I would always be able to trust you."

It felt like he was starting to breathe again, for the first time in a long time.

"I was as good as damned, I knew," he said. "But the thing that bothered me most was you. That you would think I had murdered him. I let a small part of me think that you would be able to see the truth."

"You know, Severus? I've realized that bastard has kept our secret. When I visited Hogwarts, there was some interest in why you, as a former headmaster, had no portrait there. Someone asked Albus' portrait and he told them 'Severus made a choice that precludes that from happening.' And so everyone thought that meant leaving your post, but he means that you chose to live."

"Please do not tell me I am in that man's debt again."

"Maybe, when we put a few more pieces of this behind us, I'll be ready to forgive him. But I've been so angry ... Such a pretentious act, to sacrifice himself. But to sacrifice you with him?...Not only did I lose him, but I came so close to losing you."

"But you don't need to be angry with him on my account."

And she chuckled at his short -sightedness for the second time that day. "It doesn't work that way."

* * *

**Author's Notes: The song used here is Joe Cocker's "You can leave your hat on." Oh, my. And yes, those are the lyrics.  
**

**A certain man is guilty of replacing my CDs with his Japanese language CDs in my kitchen player. This is to put him on notice. I prefer Joe Cocker.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I guess I should stop writing 'Oh, look at me, out on a limb.' because every chapter is starting to feel like that. Of course that could be because I am ill. Not enough o2 in the lungs (or the brain)? With no beta other than my other selves, I cringe as I send this your way.**

**And ExcessivelyPerky, I prefer to believe that Rowling misheard Minerva's impassioned screams. :)**

* * *

Their time in Edinburgh was not what either had hoped it would be. It was impossible to enjoy this city she had so wanted to show him with so much hanging over her. So, instead it turned into a time of preparations and, she allowed, a small amount of desperation. She was glad to be only with Severus. She felt with him she could let a few chinks in her armor show. And there was no need to let Niall see her like this.

The toughest move was to contact her old friend, Rhoda Garrett, a solicitor. Drafting that letter, sending that owl, was admitting that trouble was coming, that Severus was right when he said, all those months ago, "there can be no perfect little fairy tale." Once she got her reply, she knew she was in capable hands. Rhoda was eager to represent her and if need be, Severus. The waiting could be over, the fight could begin. This appealed to the Gryffndor.

Minerva rose from the desk in their hotel room. . "Rhoda sent a letter explaining the charges I may be up against," she told him.

"You're worried," he said from his spot on the hotel bed. He was trying to draw her out, she knew.

"Well, I know I sounded very resolute about facing what I've done, Severus. But I've grown rather fond of you," she said sarcastically. "What was the point in saving you, seducing you, and marrying you, if I am going to spend the next 5 years locked up?"

She plunked herself down on the bed next to him blowing out her frustration and her pent up breath. "The good news is that there is nothing hanging over _your_ head. There will be no charges against you, according to Rhoda. Thinking you dead and martyred, people feel rather guilty about mistrusting you, and so she believes you will be in the clear. So, you can plan what your statue looks like while I am pining away in some jail somewhere."

"Not going to happen," he told her, holding her possessively. "Tell me what you want to do."

"It's all looming so close right now. I can't enjoy myself here. I want to go to the Ministry and get this behind me. Not much of a honeymoon, I know."

"Well, sweetheart, we'll always have Paris."

"We didn't go to Paris, Severus," Minerva said, confused.

"Humphrey Bogart. I was doing Humphrey Bogart."

"My life is completely unravelling and _you_ develop a sense of humor?" She stood and tried to walk from him, but he had a hold of her wrist.

"What will make you feel better?" he asked and kissed her palm. She made a feigned attempt to get her hand back, but was happy with the attentions, he could see.

"Nothing," she declared unconvincingly.

"Hot bath?" he suggested and kissed her wrist. "Back rub?" he asked before he nibbled on her fingers. "I could rub tabby behind her ears."

"You never touch me when I'm a cat," she told him pointedly.

"Well, I have a problem touching a cat who is a woman with whom I have had sex."

"So, don't offer," she told him with irritation. "You make it sound as if there are a herd of cat women you have slept with for God's sake, Severus." She turned away from him, but left her hand in his grasp.

"Fine," he muttered in frustration.

They endured a minute of silence until she turned to face him and with her free hand to his chest, she pushed him down on the bed. "Make me forget," she said once she was sitting astride him.

It was a directive he was more than happy to satisfy. He rolled her over and began an assault on her senses that startled her. He nipped at her, smoothed his hands over her skin, traced his feet over her calves. His voice was in her ear, telling her in a hundred different ways that she was his, would stay his, would always be his.

He knelt above her now. "Your eyes, woman, should be on me," he hissed as he slowly worked the buttons on his shirt. She opened her eyes again and was hyper aware. Her skin tingled, her lips still registered his early, rough kisses. She reached up to caress his face and he caught her fingers in his mouth. The sensation seemed magnified, making her gasp.

Once he had shed his shirt, he took her hand in his and traced her wet finger tips slowly down his chest, then his abdomen. Leaning across her, he took her hand from where it had stalled in the wiry hairs near his navel and positioned it on his trousers to have her unfasten them. "If you would?" he whispered, his voice heavy and sensual. And when he was finally rid of his clothes, he rolled her over again so she was above him and he pushed her up so she was sitting, riding him and he said, "Now you." As if compelled by his voice, she began to unbutton her blouse ...

...

Later, she stilled her breathing, and closed her eyes, feeling sweetly emptied of any fears or concerns. He kissed her before wordlessly rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom. She turned over on to her stomach and dozed off.

Fresh from the shower and dressed, he was kneeling by the bed. Leaning on his elbows, he let his lips and nose wander through her hair. "Wake up," he whispered into her ear. He had no familiar name for her, no nickname he had long realized. In his head he heard "Sweet heart," "darling," "honey" and he rejected them all as ridiculous. Most often he thought of her as the source of his hope, as his future. With no way to tell her that, he leaned down again to kiss her bare shoulders. And with each kiss, he let more loose from the tight place where he had confined his thoughts of what she was to him. "Minerva, my girl. Wake up." He brushed at the hair that was loose on her back as more came from him with a smile, "Kitten?"

He saw her smile then, although she kept her eyes closed. "Aren't you going to get up, Love?" he asked his voice still oddly light.

"No," she said lazily. "You make lying in bed too enjoyable." He climbed into the bed and looming over her, he kissed her lips until she responded. "Have you found one you like?" she teased. "A pet name," she clarified with a smile.

"Temptress? Siren? Love slave," he breathed into her ear with exaggeration. And she let go of a throaty laugh that warmed him. "Get out of bed, woman. And let's go get dinner."

Now he stood by the side of the bed, far enough away for her eyes to really focus on him. "Oh, Severus. You're wearing the clothes I bought you here," she said pushing up on one elbow.

"I figured that was what you intended when you got them," he said flatly.

"God, you are difficult. I am trying to tell you I appreciate you indulging me."

"We will not make a habit of playing dress up with me, I hope. But I thought, well... never mind. Come along, Minerva. Get out of bed," he said with a small amount of impatience. He tugged at her hand until she was sitting up in front of him on the edge of the bed. She dallied, taking pleasure from his attentions. She responded to his touch as a marionette might, standing as he pulled her up.

He wrapped his arms around her and she enjoyed the rough feel of his clothes against her naked body. Sliding one hand down her back to rest on her backside, he pulled her closer, he then used the other to bring her head to his shoulder. He dipped his head to whisper against her neck.

"My love... my heart... You will get in the bath now and get washed so I can take you to dinner."

She was floating on his words when she answered him with, "Why can't we order up for dinner and entertain ourselves here in the room?"

"Because," he said pausing to kiss her neck, "It's our last night here and I want to take you out, And if you will not comply, I will not make love to you tonight."

"Your loss," she joked, staying limp in his arms.

Not one to lose an exchange, he carried her to the bathroom in something resembling a dance with a rag doll. Setting her feet down on the tile, he spun and retreated, closing the door behind him.

...

An hour later they were in the hotel hallway. She watched him, assessed him with appreciation, while he warded their door. She smiled at the magic love and sex had wrought. His scowl was the same as the one that had always gotten her defenses up. But now she could smile when she saw it. And she knew her sarcasm was nearly as biting as it always had been, but his reaction had changed from exasperation to forbearance.

Now that they were underway, she was looking forward to a night out. She loved this city and they could enjoy it without fear of being recognized, she was fairly certain. Severus barely looked like Severus now. The hair was shorter and nowhere near black. It had taken her a week in Edinburgh to surreptitiously get him this new outfit, a frock coat here, trousers and a waist coat there. True, she had weaned him off of head to toe black over the past few months, but THIS was a whole new look.

"You look marvelous, you know," she told him quietly as they walked for the lifts.

He gave her a barely patient look as he took her by the elbow. " I look like bleeding Dr. Who," he whispered into her ear.

"No. I don't think so." And then in a doubting voice, "Which one?"

They stood facing each other waiting for the lift's doors to open. He flipped an imaginary scarf over the shoulder of his grey tweed top coat, and forced an obnoxious smile, "Tom Baker."

"My God. You're right. And here I almost got you the tweed trousers, too," she said with her hand to her chin. "I am beginning to see that was influencing me. Still," she purred, "Gorgeous."

The doors opened with a chime and they stepped inside. "Let's go, Romana," he said taking up her hand. "After tonight I fear I will have to share you with the world. So, I will not waste this time with you."

They had detoured from the Royal Mile to walk the North bridge. People milled passed them as they stood by the old War Memorial and its plaque. These statue soldiers, they were not a symbol of victory he thought. It was less a lie than so many things of its ilk. These were the faces of the wounded, the weary. Those who merely hoped for survival. The dead. He started to see too much in the statue and he turned away from it quickly. And she was in his arms, thinking that was what he had sought with his movement.

He had that look on his face, that pained half smile that told her he did not trust any good feelings he had. She worried about him, but she tried not to. They returned to the Royal Mile to continue toward the castle. She stopped and after a moment's thought, she pulled him into the dark passageway known as Lyon's Close. She had thought perhaps they would find a couple sequestered there in the alley, but they had it to themselves.

She kissed him, ran her hands through his hair in the alley. He responded with numb surprise. "Alright, Severus?" she asked gently.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, although he seemed distant.

"Then follow me and we'll get some dinner," she said. And they wound through the close, finding a small restaurant that seemed to be hidden in the wall.

It was three hours later when, bleary-eyed they returned to the hotel. A storm was promised in the rising wind, he thought as they entered the hotel. He snuggled up behind her in the lift. He felt like part of him was drifting away and he held to her to try to stay rooted there with her.

...

It was the thunder that woke her. She would have rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but she noticed Severus was not in bed and that there was a breeze coming in. Sitting up, she began to place what was happening. The door to the balcony was open and she could hear the sound of the rain on its cement floor. Her eyes lit onto fragments of the scene – the rain drops as they splattered, the white curtains pushing in to the room on the wind. And then she saw him. His hands were on the railing, his head hung down as he let the torrent beat down on him. His open shirt stuck to him, his hair was plastered to his face. Quietly she sat up, but there was no sense that he could hear her. The lightening flashed and then the thunder banged. When she got to him he had his head tipped back, letting rain pelt his face.

With a rough grip to his arm, she spun him partly around. "Dammit, Severus!" she yelled at his wide-eyed face. "Would you get inside?"

"I ..." came his startled reply. She glared at him and he walked back into the room. She closed the door behind them, cutting off much of the sound from the rain storm, and walked for the stack of towels by the bathroom door. She grabbed a towel and flicked on the bathroom light, to give the room a faint glow.

"Don't tell me what you were doing," she said angrily. She threw the towel into his chest. "I've seen you do this before." She sank into a chair across from him and spoke more gently. "The first time was about 4 years ago when I looked out my windows during a hell of a storm." He sat down hard on the bed feeling vacant, yet exposed. "Albus told me to leave you be. That you were trying to feel something, anything rather than feeling numb, even if it was just cold or wet."

"Being numb seems like such a good choice when you've been Riddle's lap dog so long," he said viciously. "And then you find out that the numbness quickly leaves you less than human. Something will happen," he started to explain. "Someone drops dead next to you. And you can't for the life of you register an emotion," he told her blithely.

"I would look for you, Severus, every rain storm. Some nights I could see you from my window. Other times I followed you and watched you from a distance out by the Great Oak." She saw him manage his surprise with the barest flinch. "I understood Severus, I thought I did. The rainstorms let you yell or cry if you wanted and no one would know. But I would see you sometimes stand there like you were offering yourself up, hoping you'd be struck dead by lightening."

He turned his head away from her. "This wasn't like that."

"Then why, Severus? Why tonight? You would do this when you were held by the blackest of forces at Hogwarts. I will not have you do this with me. This is not something you want to bring into our marriage. Leave it to the past."

"Alright," he spat.

"Don't you care that you could get yourself killed standing out there like that, you selfish prat?" she asked weakly.

He said nothing in reply. There was more to it, she knew. At least she could hear that the anger was gone. She stood and went to him. Taking the towel, she rubbed his hair and then his shoulders. She meant to erase this, he knew, and the towel became her way of physically doing that when a drying charm would have sufficed.

"Enough, Minerva. You are making too much of this," he objected.

Her hands stilled and she looked at him. "It's not about you standing in the rain for pity's sake, Severus. It's about you courting all the pain and blackness you still carry. You can't conjure it back up, nursing it all back to the top like this."

"_What am I supposed to do?" _he wanted to yell, but he just stood and tossed the towel into the corner. "We should go back to bed," he told her. She turned her head to the balcony door. She could still hear the storm, but it was much abated. The wind no longer whipped and the thunder was far distant. She held out her hand to him and he took it.

"Kiss me," she whispered without meeting his eyes. And he did. Their long lazy kisses trailed on and on until she smiled into his mouth. "Severus, I want to try something." And as she pulled open the door to the balcony, she told him, "Come with me."

As the first chilled drops settled on her, she flinched and used a warming charm on both of them. Next she set a silencing charm and a Disillusionment Charm over them. Smiling, she worked her wand back into a pocket on her nightgown. He bent his head to kiss her, sensing that was what she wanted.

She returned his kisses with a slow intent that flowed and spiraled. These were not the rushed pressing kisses of passion. So, he was surprised when she pushed off his open shirt. With a sly, quick tongue he tasted the rain drops on her skin until he felt her hands tugging his head to look at her. He took in the joy on her face.

"Legilimens?" she whispered. "Can you use it just to see what I am feeling? Right now?"

He did not understand the request, but he tried. Entering her mind, he then had trouble holding to the emotions of the present, Legilimency being better suited to memories.

"Hold your focus here. Now." He heard her words like a song. She was steering this process, he could feel it. Her offered emotions spilled over him in a hopeless jumble. His mind was accustomed to exploring and she could perceive that. "Stay here. Just this," he heard her say whether in her mind or out loud, he didn't know. He decided to use the added power of the bond between them and parted the front of her nightgown and put his hand over her heart while he looked into her up turned face.

He was working to focus his mind to stay on the moving edge of the present, when he heard her cast Legilimens and then say, "What do you see?" Her hands held his face now and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was shaking his head in frustration, he couldn't tell what he was seeing.

And her voice said, 'I'm happy, Love.' and Minerva came into focus in his mind. He saw that pictured Minerva touch a hand to her chest and withdraw something. Shapeless, formless, but shimmering it floated through him. He gasped at the strength of feeling, drew in a breath and tried to relax. _How had she done this? _ In his mind he saw her repeat this process three times, drawing an emotion, naming it, releasing it. And then in his mind he saw her soft smile as she held another shimmering light before him, "What is it?" her voice asked.

"You love me." He replied without having to think on it. And finally with a mischievous smile on her face, the pictured Minerva held something that burned like a star. It was small, but intense, like the tip of a child's sparkler. And she waited for his answer. "Desire." he said and he felt the same mischievous smile spread across his face and he felt Desire enter and warm him.

And then she was on him, in his arms. Kissing him. Pressing her rain soaked body against his. And the connection forged by the spell continued, followed, stayed in the ever moving now. He felt emotions pelt him like the rain, saw them like technicolor lightening in slow motion. Felt a euphoria.

The connection ended abruptly and, gradually, the kisses faded. But the sensation lingered in him, leaving him feeling like a jibbering idiot as he tipped his head back to the sky and laughed and cried out in triumph. He opened his mouth to the rain and then pushed his sodden bangs from his face. "My God, Girl," he said with a smile never seen before. "I didn't know you could do that with that spell!"

"Neither did I," she told him smiling sheepishly.

...

Later they were dried and finally in bed. Closing her eyes, she snuggled down into her pillow, but she soon felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Minerva, I am still trying to understand what happened," he told her with a little shake. "Why did you casting Legilimens make the process work like that?"

She groaned and rolled over to face him. "I asked you to hold to the present, hoping what I visualized would be what you saw. But I could tell that wasn't working for you. When you touched me, I felt the spell was stronger, but that you still didn't see what I wanted you to see. I got frustrated, I guess, and I thought that if I could see what you were seeing, then I could improve the visualization and I would know when everything was synchronized."

He looked at her in awe. "You used Legilimens to create a feed back loop?"

"If that is what you want to call it," she shrugged.

"You wanted to offer things to displace the numbness?" he asked.

"That is what I wanted you to see, yes."

"And at the end? The emotions visualized together were the rain and the lightening."

"I didn't know if that would work," she smiled sleepily and closed her eyes again, exhausted.

...

It was early morning when she woke to the kisses on the back of her neck. He was spooned in behind her and she heard him say, "Do you want to know why I was outside last night?"

"Of course, I do." She made no move to roll over or to face him, knowing he could tell her these things better without her looking at him.

"It's idiotic. I let myself be set off by the memorial on the bridge. I was looking at the statues.

"The one with the soldiers huddled together?"

"Yes, exactly. It struck me how different it was than so many other statues. Oh, the one guy is standing there like some pompous idiot who is going to save everyone with a good dose of British courage. But the other three are on the ground. And I just thought. Someone got it half right. You have your battles and people end up laid out. Wounded. Exhausted. Broken."

"The one fellow had no hat, his face was so clear," he continued. "I looked at him. Something about him." He paused, exhaling, considering. "The way his jaw was cut, maybe. I said to myself, 'That could be Lupin.' " He heard her pull in a sharp breath at the indifferent way he had thought of the dead professor. "And I felt nothing, Minerva. I kept looking and I said, 'No, this bloke is a good 20 years too young to be Remus.' But I thought, feeling completely detached, that he could have been Fred Weasley. And just as easily I reminded myself, 'No, the dead boy had long hair.' " His voice caught and he just breathed hard for a moment.

"There I was, Minerva. I was able to go through a list of 20 people I know who have been killed over the past 15 years and tell you how they compared to the fellow in the memorial. And I realized I had done it: I had gone numb again. Even if only for that short time on the bridge."

She squeezed his arm, but he didn't seem to want reassurance. "That wasn't the first time I had done that over these past few months, either," he told her. "I welcomed the numbness when I realized what I saw in Zoe's head. And that was when you saw the other half of it. The way I can take the pain and before it even touches me, turn it around into aggression." He pushed his forehead into her shoulder and she realized he was done.

"Thank you," she told him softly. She would not belabor this. This, nearly the largest emotional discussion he had ever managed, needed to just be left to lie.

He nuzzled into her hair and she sighed. He planted kisses into the back of her neck with a rhythm that helped him conjure his love for her to the fore. And then the pace of his kisses fell off, she heard him ease his breaths, and fall back to sleep.

She lay there thinking that the trip they would make that day to the Ministry was even more important now than before. And even more frightening with things feeling so fragile. But there was no other way. The past would not be ignored, it would not lie quiet. Each thing they had tried to bury now demanded to be acknowledged, examined, and defused.

Finally, she worked herself free from his embrace and stood by the bed. "Get up, Love. Today we battle dragons." _If only it were that quick or that easy, _she thought_,_ wryly.

* * *

They floo'd to the Ministry. It was a quiet time to arrive, it being well past the beginning of the work day and before lunch.

Once in the Office of Records, they took their number and found a seat. There was only one case in front of them. A man complaining that his child's name had been misspelled on the birth certificate. By the time the surly supervisor got done with him, he was nearly ready to just let the error stand, _Really,_ _'Tim' versus 'Tom' what's the difference?_ he started to think as he left. The supervisor drifted into the back room and the pimply clerk stepped forward to yell, "Next."

With a smile, Minerva presented the records. "We'd like to use this muggle marriage certificate to register a wizard marriage." The clerk excused himself to go to the files leaving the couple standing at the desk. Minerva found it easier to wait if she was not watching the file room door for the clerk to reappear, so she turned and watched the people walking by in he corridor.

The inevitable has to happen Severus told himself, but it made the wait no better. It was like standing there watching an unavoidable train accident come from far off. Sooner or later the clerk or his supervisor will realize that Severus had been declared dead to the Wizarding world. And sooner or later someone would recognize him or Minerva. _So relax_, he told himself consciously flexing and then releasing the muscles in his shoulders.

The two things began to happen nearly simultaneously. From behind him he heard a surprised voice call, "Professor McGonagall?" Minerva's unfocused gaze soon pinpointed Percy Weasley in the hallway. Severus did not turn, as he saw his share of fun walking toward him in the person of the records supervisor. "You are Mr. SEVERUS Snape?" she questioned looking at Severus.

"Yes," he drawled with an uneven smile. Causing chaos was a little fun, he had to admit.

"Mr. Severus Snape of Spinner End?"

"No," Severus said, giving the records supervisor a moment of relief before he stole it all away.

"It's Severus Snape of Spinner's End. Spinner's.

"Professor Snape?" Percy breathed. Severus turned and the young man was as red as his hair. _Will the enjoyment ever end?_ Severus thought with a sly smile.

Just then they heard a voice from the hallway call, "Percy, is that where you've gotten to? I thought we were having lunch together?" _Arthur Weasly,_ Severus correctly assessed and it was all he could do to not laugh out loud at this point.

"Professor Snape," Percy said again not taking his eyes from Severus, despite his father's calls. As Arthur came into view, he turned to see what had captured his son's attention.

"My God," was all Arthur managed to say in awe. It was a long time before he said anything else. "My God, Severus. We thought you were dead." He stepped up to the man and grasped his hand and smacked him hard on the arm. The confused mechanism of Arthur's brain was obviously moving in slow motion. He looked at Minerva as he tried to sort things out. "Minerva?" he said quietly. "You told us..."

"As entertaining as all this is," Severus cut in. "All hell is likely to break loose soon. We need to get this little drama over with and get out of here."

Arthur peered past Severus to the clerk and the supervisor who still stood there, paperwork in hand. The clerk looked confused. The supervisor looked peeved. Being alive was no laughing matter when the paperwork said you ought not be. This was going to ruin her afternoon.

"Let's sort this out as quickly as possible then and get you out of here," Arthur said congenially. "He's obviously alive, Fran." Arthur said to the supervisor. "Can't you just change the paperwork?"

"No. _He_ may be obviously alive," the supervisor said with an accusing gesture in Severus' direction. "But I can't just take his word for who he is. Or hers! She's the one who signed THIS." She held up the Notice of Death. Then she held up the muggle parchment with the words "Certificate of Marriage" in large print, "And now they want to file muggle marriage paperwork and have a wizarding wedding certificate issued. Really..." the supervisor had lost Arthur's attention at that last one.

"You're married? You're married to her," Arthur said in disbelief, a wild grin on his face. Percy managed only a look of further shock.

"This is way beyond the level of enjoyment I expected from this event, really," Severus drawled at Arthur. "Should we go over this again... but slowly?"

Minerva swatted him.

"You dog." Arthur replied with a ghost of a smile, ignoring Severus' jibe. Severus narrowed his eyes, unsure how to take that last statement. Arthur thumped Severus on the chest and repeated the statement.

"Arthur, you will stop hitting me." Severus looked over to his wife. "Everyone will stop hitting me," he announced arms folded across his chest.

"Alright then," Arthur said with a smile and he turned to Minerva and hugged her. He put one hand on her shoulder and said, "You tell me he really makes you happy or I'll drag him off right now and he can just stay dead."

"Weasley. Stop badgering my wife," came Severus' voice behind him.

"He's only kidding, Severus," Minerva said happily.

The supervisor raised her voice, "You know we can't possibly take care of this today. I'll have to inform... I don't know who to inform... " she trailed off sadly.

Arthur snatched up the paperwork and handed it to Percy. "Take this up to the Minister of Magic. Hell, I'll go with you," he said grinning. "I can't wait to see the look on Shackelbolt's face."

"We'll be at Severus' place." Minerva told him quietly. "The address is on the forms."

"Spinner's End?" he said with a glance. "Okay. We'll find you there tomorrow and tell you how things are sorting out."

"I anticipate problems," Minerva said.

"Oh. Minerva." Arthur said as his face fell. "Merlin. You're right. There will be questions to answer. I just want this to be a happy event. I am really happy for you. For both of you. I don't know what you did, Minerva. But I think I understand why. " He squeezed her hand. "I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and watch anything happen to you. Not after everything we've been through. So get out of here before things get sticky," he said with a wink.

* * *

**A/N:**

this site get SO mad when I try to include a link, so I have written it oddly.

w w w. shillpages . com/dw/bakert28.jpg is a picture of Tom Baker as Dr. Who for the sadly uninitiated. Yes, I know that's not Romana (either one) in the picture of Dr. Who.

http : / / tinyurl . com / 6o8o37 is a pic of the War Memorial on the North Bridge in Edinburgh.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: A fun chapter to write.**

Severus led them from the Ministry, and wordlessly finding an alley, he Apparated them to the front walk of his Spinner's End home.

Minerva tried to keep her comments in check, but it was difficult. They had landed in a bush - a bush that Severus evidently did not anticipate would have grown to the point where it nearly occluded the path to his door.

There was a swishing sound as Severus performed some hasty and somewhat violent, magical shrub trimming, all to the tune of "Bugger, bugger, bugger."

Glancing around, Severus used his wand to remove the plethora of wards and hexes that were on the house. He was then able to turn the knob on his front door, but the door barely budged. Swearing and putting his full weight into the act, he was able to get the door partially open.

"Whatever is the matter with your door, Severus?" Minerva asked.

"Bugger it! It's not the door," he said peeved. "It's all the damn mail that's stacked up _behind_ the door."

She slid through the narrow opening and looked first at the mail slot and then at the envelopes, flyers and papers strewn about in a heap. "How long have you been gone?"

"Six months."

"Incredible, this can't all be personal correspondence, Severus. What is it?"

"Junk mail," he told her as he stepped around the pile and closed the door.

"Why would people send you mail that is junk?"

"It's advertising."

"Ah. I see," she said stooping to gather up a handful. "Here's one for a tanning place. And one for a car wash."

"Don't worry about it, Minerva. I'll sort it tomorrow. There is probably one important piece mixed in there somewhere."

"Can't you make them stop? These horrible muggles who do this?"

"I have tried," he said impatiently. "I have used 6 different hexes. Nothing seems to work. There may be some sort of dark magic at work," Severus said in a frustrated voice.

"Well, this is completely untenable. People shouldn't have to put up with this sort of thing," she told him.

"Well, good," he said sarcastically. "You hounded me to find something to do with my life. I don't see why you should get off _**scot **_free. You can dedicate yourself to ridding the world of junk mail."

"I just may do that." Not knowing what to do with the mail in her hands she simply let it flutter to the floor.

The air in the small dark house was stale and musty. Severus was seeing the place with new eyes as he walked through with Minerva. _What was I thinking even bringing her here?_ he wondered.

"Let's air this place out and get some tea going," he suggested as he strode through the sitting room for the kitchen beyond.

Severus was surprised at the way she quickly ransacked his kitchen. She opened cupboards and poked around as she spoke. "What are we going to eat? There is nothing here but canned beans and tomatoes."

Suddenly, there was a fluttering, smacking noise from outside the kitchen window that looked into the tiny back yard.

"Severus?" she said clutching her chest at the start the owls had given her. "There are no fewer than three owls out there. It would seem word of our appearance at the Ministry has gotten around."

"Bugger it," he said as he opened the window and the owls entered. Two landed neatly on the table and the third, a tawny brown, skittered off the end landing hopelessly on the floor.

Minerva pulled some ancient biscuits from a tin and offered them to the owls who were not very taken with them.

"This one is from Hogwarts," Severus said. "Ah, BUGGER IT!" he snarled when he got a better look at it.

"Severus, would you stop saying that!"

"It's from Filius. It's a howler."

"Well, take it in the living room," she told him matter-of-factly. "No need to deafen me and these poor birds."

Minerva could hear the expletive laden howler from the kitchen as she detached the parchments from the other birds' legs. She shoo'd them out the window to wait for replies.

Upon returning to the kitchen, Severus asked, "Why?! Why do people call me a bastard as soon as they learn that I am alive?"

"Term of endearment, Love."

"Who were the other two from?"

"One is from the Burrow. Molly is inviting us out there for dinner."

Severus groaned.

"The other is from Rhoda. She's headed to the Ministry to see what the Department of Magical Justice will do with us. She'll let them know that she is representing us. She says Elphias Doge is no longer an advisor there and we will unfortunately be dealing with Chauncey Cullen."

Minerva considered the canned food on the counter, the parchments in front of her, and the owls waiting for replies. And then she told Severus, "Put your coat back on. We are going to the Burrow for dinner and I'd like you to pop out and pick up a bottle of wine we can take with us." She set about writing a hasty reply to Molly.

"Not on your life," Severus replied flatly as he watched her coo at the small owl she was sending back.

"Severus, look at the invitation. Molly's sending all the kids out. It's 'Just the old folks,' she wrote. Smart woman, Molly. She probably even realized there would be nothing here for us to eat," Minerva said with a weak smile. With satisfaction she noted Severus was indeed putting his coat back on, after which he rummaged through a kitchen tin to pull out Muggle money.

* * *

Minerva Apparated them to Burrow and Severus stayed rooted to the ground as she began to walk for the Weasley's door.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"I haven't seen Molly in months, Minerva. Since before Fred died. I need to say something."

"Just tell her your sorry, Love," Minerva said gently.

And so Severus did. Molly clasped his arms, thanked him, said how well he looked, fussed over his hair and told him that marriage agreed with him. Minerva shot him a 'see wasn't that easy' look.

Dinner went well, Severus thought with a reluctant half smile. Minerva enjoyed telling them about their travels. And he was happy to get Arthur's input on how the political situation had changed in recent months.

Once dinner was over, Molly prompted Arthur with a little shooing motion, "Don't you want to show Severus some of the projects you have out in the work shed? Minerva and I will get the pies and make some tea. We'll send for you when everything is ready."

Minerva and Severus could not help but look at each other with suspicion. They sensed a Molly-driven conspiracy.

Once in the kitchen, Minerva asked, "Am I out here to help you with the dishes. To start the tea? What?"

"Oh, please!" Molly said with a wink fetching a wine bottle from under the sink. "I want to talk to you. I want to know how things are going. You just got married, remember?" She quickly sloshed wine into the two glasses on the kitchen table. "You've had this man locked up in your cottage for months, without letting the world in on your secret, and once he is nursed back to health, he is in your bed!"

"Molly, this would not be your first glass of wine would it?" Minerva asked with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sorry if you never knew this about me, Minerva. But I am a horribly crass person who enjoys talking about people's sex lives."

Minerva sipped deeply from her glass. "Apology accepted," she smiled.

"SO, how is it? And I mean the marriage."

"You're not surprised, Molly?"

"Surprised? I think the biggest shock is that _he's_ married – not that he wanted to marry you. I saw him look at you at Grimmauld Place."

"Oh, you cannot tell me you predicted this, Molly!" Minerva said rolling her eyes for effect.

"No. Certainly not. But he DID look at you differently than the rest of us. Most of the world got his contempt. But when you were talking, there was ... reverence."

"Reverence? I think you're addled." Minerva replied moving the wine bottle closer to herself and refilling her glass.

"That's entirely possible with everything that's been going on. But no. I don't think so. And I'm glad to see it wasn't the sort of reverence one has for a mother," she intoned meaningfully.

"No, not unless he had very inappropriate thoughts in that regard," Minerva said into her glass.

"So, things are going well?" Molly prompted.

"I'm not sure I know," Minerva admitted. "We've been married less than a month. Things have been going on for much longer than that. But marriage is, you know, different. For most of the time we have been together it has been just us. No interference from the world. No jobs. We travelled for a while and mostly it has been us alone in the cottage." She shrugged.

"It's good, really," Minerva continued "And I'm being ridiculous, but I worry about how things will be ... later."

"Later?"

"Well, things change. You know that. I know that. And Gavin and I were not married nearly as long as you and Arthur."

Molly still looked puzzled.

"There will come a day," Minerva said, "when... it's not that you don't want to spend time together, but that you just don't find the idea of chocolate sauce necessary."

Molly laughed. "Now I understand. You are borrowing trouble, Minerva. Are you going to spend your time NOW worrying about what you are already telling me is something you can't really do anything about? Or is it because you have been married before and Severus hasn't? You feel like there is some false advertising in it for him. You think he doesn't know that things will change... eventually. And we are not talking tomorrow, Minerva. So, you feel that you need to warn him?"

"I think you have me fairly well figured out," Minerva admitted sadly.

"Oh, Minerva. You are the only person I know who could get an incredible amount of good sex and make it sound like a problem."

"I never said I was getting an incredible amount of good sex..." Minerva protested in a hushed voice with a worried look at the kitchen door.

"HA!" Molly replied, pointing an accusing finger. "If you weren't, your biggest worry would not be that things will change some day."

"I don't know that it's my biggest worry, Molly. Maybe it's just the one that I can think about. When it's just the two of us, things are easier. Relaxed. Since we've been to the Ministry – what, less than 12 hours ago, all he has done is shout "Bugger it."

"Typical male response to being reduced to ornamentation," Molly contended.

"You could be right. When it's just us, he is different. We both are," Minerva said slowly, considering. "We are happier. I can feel more lonely in a group of people than I do with just him. Together we keep each other sane. We keep the ghosts at bay. It helps to have him with me on days when I feel the ghosts on me. And it breaks my heart when I see them settle on him. "

"I know," Molly said covering the older woman's hand with hers.

"How do you manage?" Minerva asked with a slight shake of her head.

"I'm not actually. It doesn't matter, though. Does it? Whether you are coping or not, morning still comes. And you get up."

Minerva lifted her glass, feeling the alcohol and the mood weigh her down. "To Fred's mum. Hell of a woman."

...

The two men stood uneasily together in the work shed. Severus watched as Arthur showed him a muggle toaster that he uses to propel a toy hot air balloon to the ceiling. It floats silently back down and the process is repeated in it's useless, but to Arthur, soothing rhythm. Not knowing what else to say, feeling it the correct thing to do, Severus asked how the children are.

And Severus' worst fears were realized. Arthur, being a man much more willing to share his feelings, offers more than a "Fine" in reply.

"Truthfully, it has been very hard, Severus. No one wanted to think about what could happen. No one could have imagined how it would affect us... to lose Fred. We are going to be dealing with this a long, long time." Arthur told him with a look that was fragile. With damnable full eyes.

_I hate this,_ Severus thought. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No, it's alright. You know, Severus. Everyone is afraid to talk about it. No one wants to bring it up. And no one knows what to do next."

Severus began uneasily, "Here we are trying to move on from what were horrible, dark days and still I find it incredibly hard sometimes. Not because I want to revel in the pain, but because I don't know anything different. No one should spend as much time rooted in sorrow as I have."

Arthur thought a long while before replying. When he spoke his voice held a note of promise. "I've tried to be there to support Molly and the kids, George especially. But you are right. I can't let things stay like this. I have a role to play other than just grieving. It's my job is to help them move on, isn't it? Even though I don't really want to myself."

Severus nodded.

"Thank you Severus. Really."

He looked at Arthur Weasly standing there with his unguarded emotions in full display. This man hugged his kids. Loved them. Probably didn't hit them. Didn't work to frighten them. God knows, he didn't shove them down the stairs. Severus flinched at his dark memories and waited for the evil to pour into him. But it was forestalled by what he was trying to figure out.

This man loved his wife. You didn't just _know_ it. You _saw_ it. Severus thought back to gatherings at Grimmauld Place. And when Arthur displayed these things, it had really only been Severus who had rolled his eyes or thought the man ridiculous.

Arthur was talking to him, he realized. He was showing him a still, syphoning off some clear liquid for Severus to sample, poteen he had called it. Severus grimaced into his own glass, the potent smell of the alcohol hit him, and he began to hear Arthur's words.

"...Ron's pride," the red head was saying. "It's become a stumbling block. And if he doesn't grow up soon he is going to lose Hermione. She hasn't the patience for his posturing."

With a few well placed words, Severus realized he could keep Arthur talking and the time would pass until Minerva came to take him home. He had resigned himself to that. He was at her mercy for the night. She needed this contact with the Weasleys, it seemed.

"And Ginny?" Severus prompted. "Still with Potter?"

"Yes. And I thought they would have gotten engaged by now. Something. But they do not even talk about it. It is this sense that anything happy would be disloyal to Fred."

Severus nodded.

"How is married life, eh, Severus?"

Severus fixed him with a stare that made it clear that was not a likely topic.

"Well, what have you been doing then?" Arthur tried.

"Well, let's see," he said sarcastically. "I was apparently in and out of consciousness for nearly a month. Then I worked on recovering. Then we traveled and got married and now we are here."

"You know the newspapers are calling this an incredible romance," Arthur said. Severus glared at him. "Oh, yes, the evening paper picked up your story already. And here you talk as if it's a foot note to you."

"It is not a 'footnote' to me, Arthur. But it is not something I talk about."

"She saved your life," Arthur said. "Incredible, she had the presence of mind to go looking for you." Arthur was smiling wistfully.

"She knew where I'd be," Severus said and then stopped. He had never put this story into words for anyone. He considered the events while his finger tips traced over the top of the work bench. "She placed me under a powerful protective charm before she helped get me out of the castle."

Arthur's face perked up at this talk of a protective charm he had never heard of.

Severus continued, "It was an ancient incantation. Gaelic. Something her mother found for her. I believe it buoyed me somehow. Helped sustain me. Increased my strength."

Arthur looked at Severus with wide eyes. "Do you have any idea how amazing what you are telling me is? You cannot create something from nothing, Severus. I have never heard of this spell obviously, but the powers that sustained you must have come from somewhere."

"She said it came from her heart," he said almost ashamed.

Arthur smiled and both men averted their eyes in favor of their poteen. Then Arthur raised his glass and said, "I think we should drink to Minerva."

* * *

Back at Spinner's End they talked as they got ready for bed. As he pulled off his clothes, Severus asked, "Why is it these things have to get divided down gender lines? Is it just that people have to get you away from me and see if you need rescuing?"

"Molly was not trying to get rid of you any more than she was trying to get rid of Arthur," she told him as she brushed out her hair. "It was just some girl talk."

"Do I want to know?"

"I can tell you do," she kidded. "You have to stop thinking that people are worried about me because I married you. They just want to know how it is going. It's a big adjustment. And... well, it was nice for me to have someone to talk to, too."

He scowled and turned out the lights. After some pillow mashing, Severus lay on his back and sighed.

"Molly understands," Minerva told him. "She's been married an awfully long time. There are things I worry about. Things change, Love. The way a marriage starts out is not the way things always are. Molly told me I am nothing short of ridiculous. But I can't help it. I worry that you will be disappointed."

"Whereas everyone else worries that _you'll_ be disappointed," he countered.

"It will happen, Love, for both of us. It's not a fairy tale. You were right about that. But I feel we belong together. Don't you?"

He made a noise of assent and she moved closer to him. In the meager light she could see how stiffly he lay there. She tried running her hand down his chest, but got no response from him. Finally, she sat up and leaned over him. She peppered him with soft kisses designed to soften his mood. Then she climbed on top of him to kiss him more intently before pulling back to wait for him to say something. To do _something_. But he was too busy thinking.

"Tell me I do not need to become Arthur Weasley for this marriage to work," he said finally.

She felt her eyes go wide in disbelief. Her hands froze and she was stuck there a moment as she realized that her attentions had been ignored in favor of discussing Arthur Weasley. She slid from him and took up a similar stiff posture in the bed.

"Well, that's easy, I can tell you that. But don't disparage him," she replied.

"I'm not! The man has it all figured out it would seem..."

_Ah, disappointment comes early, _she thought with an amused smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Caution. Crude sexual metaphors involving Chinese food ahead. Read at own risk.**

**Thank you for all the feed back! **

* * *

Come morning, Severus woke up alone. Lying there, he started to place events. They had been at the Weaselys', he remembered. Arthur had gotten him to drink some frightening homemade liquor that probably accounted for the headache and the state of his mouth. The noises, he decided were Minerva in the kitchen. There was the sound of the tea kettle, the tea pot's lid being replaced. He heard cupboards opening and closing. And, God help him, the sound of owls. Groggily, he pulled on his trousers and headed for the bathroom. In the kitchen, Minerva stopped what she was doing to smile at the sound of her husband groaning and shuffling his way down the hallway.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Minerva going over a stack of letters while feeding tidbits to three owls. Another two owls were outside the window.

"Good morning," she told him with a smile that somehow prompted one from him. "Poppy wants to know when the wedding reception is," she said indicating a letter in front of her. She stood, kissed him and then went to the window to let the owls out. After she sat back down, she picked up another page, "According to Rolanda, Sybill says she KNEW you were alive, but didn't want to ruin the surprise. BUT Sybill is convinced you married someone named Marion McGorley." Minerva looked up to meet his eyes and a mischievous grin was on her face. "Ah, the Inner Eye is so fickle."

"Marion McGorely, Minerva McGonagall. Really what's the difference?" he said as he poured himself a cup of tea.

She fixed a displeased eye on him.

"I can be excessively jealous," she mockingly warned him.

"Of fictitious people?" he asked.

"Let us not find out."

"And the flowers..." he began, pointing to the arrangement of orchids in a clear vase on the table.

"Are from Pomona, obviously. Here's the card," she told him, holding up a square of paper that was adorned with hearts and ivy. "You missed the part where they bloomed out of a tiny pod. Very impressive charms work. Filius must have been working over time on that one."

"He's feeling guilty for the Howler," Severus concluded, smugly.

"Did you write back to Filius?" Minerva asked. "Because there is a letter from him. And I read the one from Niall and Asha which for some reason is addressed to_ you,_ although at the very bottom they do manage a 'How's mum?' That is not sitting well with me, I might add," she remarked dryly, peering at him over her spectacles.

"It's addressed to me because it's about the nerve therapy research," he said glancing at the paper, his cup of tea nearly to his lips.

Turning, he noticed his refrigerator as if for the first time. "Minerva?" he said and pointed to the 4 brightly colored and rather crudely-drawn pictures (most of which featured tabby cats) that now adorned the door.

"Asha sent them. The children miss us."

"The children miss us?" he managed with raised eyebrows.

"Alright. The children at the clinic miss _me_. _Zoe_ misses you. You are that black round blob in the lower left there," she said indicating one of the drawings.

"And these are?" he asked raising an eyebrow at the plate of baked... things on the table.

She put down the letter from Rolanda and told him, "THOSE would have been scones, IF you had any baking powder. I do not know what to call them in its absence. Oh, just eat one," she told him with irritation.

"Chocolate chips?" he asked biting into one.

"Yes, I found your secret stash. Who knew you were self medicating?! "

Pointing to a group of envelopes on the table she told him, "Here is a stack I haven't opened yet. I started with the ones I recognized." Severus nodded, but then turned and stepped closer to the refrigerator to look at the drawings. He held the would-be scone in one hand and his tea in the other. Squinting, he scrutinized the round, black figure that seemed to be sprouting stove pipe arms and legs. A thinly drawn line indicated his usual unsmiling state, he decided. He was pretty sure this was the first time someone had drawn a picture of him that did not include a dagger drawn through the heart and the words, "Die Snape!" scrawled across it.

Suddenly, Minerva yelped in pain and he turned to see her gripping her hand. A letter she had just opened lay on the table in front of her.

"It's a stinging nettle curse, I think, Severus! Please tell me you have something for it." Severus worked quickly, opening cupboards and tumbling things out until he found the salve that would reduce the stinging sensation until the curse wore off. He cradled her hand in his and as he applied the ointment, she growled in frustration and sniffed back her tears.

"Does it hurt that much?" he asked with surprise.

"No. Damn it, I'm just mad at myself for being so foolish. Six months ago I never would have opened something I had not checked for curses."

She slumped into a chair and held her injured hand gingerly, resting it on the table top. Severus prodded the offending parchment with his wand.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"Nothing good," he said through clenched teeth.

"Just tell me," she told him firmly.

He cleared his throat, " 'You are nothing but a horned harlot who lies with that wastrel, stringy dog of a man.' "

"Well that's lovely," she said with halting sarcasm. "It has a certain pirate's poetic sense to it. Doesn't it?"

He didn't answer. With his next touch to the parchment, he had incinerated it, leaving a neat pile of ash on the table top.

"I'm glad you have retained your biting sense of humor despite being injured," he said, sounding decidedly un-glad.

"Oh, this is nothing," she told him caustically. "You should have seen me after those Stunners had me in St. Mungo's. I was even more amusing. Of course, there was the bit where I was unconscious." Then she bit her lip. She had spoken too quickly. Something she knew she did much, much too often. God, did part of her harbor a grudge? Did she want him to feel guilty about not having been to see her at St. Mungo's? He hadn't known how she had felt about him at that time. He couldn't know that she had – completely irrationally – missed him while she was in hospital. She felt the color drain from her face.

"Let me," he said gently, and he gingerly lifted her injured hand in one of his while grasping her other arm and lifting her.

"What?" she gasped, but she did not object to his attentions. She stood and let him walk her from the kitchen.

"Let me make up for it," he said as he steered her towards the bedroom. Once there, he sat her on the unmade bed and had her lie down. Rolling her over on to her side, he propped up her injured hand on a pillow. The whole time she stared at him, wanting to say something, but she was awe struck. He crawled into bed behind her and told her softly, "You were unconscious for 2 and a half days. I know. I was there." She made to interrupt him and he shushed her. "I was," he repeated. "But I couldn't let you see me. You would have thought I'd gone soft or daft."

"Ha! Or worse," she told him. "I might have thought you fancied me."

"I used a glamour and posed as a Healer," he said softly as if he was telling a bedtime story. "I visited twice, at night when there were no other visitors."

"I still don't see how you could have gotten in," she told him.

"Well, I did have a forged letter from Umbridge saying I was checking on you for her. That second night, I could see you were getting better."

"Oh, sure. A disguise and a forged letter and suddenly you think you are a Healer," she teased.

"I know because I squeezed your hand and you squeezed back," he told her.

"You are joking," she said, astonished.

"No. I squeezed your hand and told you to rest easy. And you squeezed my hand and seemed to turn your head just a little toward me."

"Well, wonderful. Apparently we had something approaching a first date and I was unconscious."

The driest of chuckles tickled the back of her neck and she heard him whisper, "Sssh, sleep."

...

She appeared at the door to the kitchen two hours later. He sat there reading a letter and drinking more tea.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm fine now." She paused next to him and smiled down at him. Then she leaned down and kissed him by way of thanks. "What were the other unopened letters."

"One hate mail, two fan mail."

"And that one?" she said pointing to the one he held.

"I'm rereading the letter from Asha and Niall. Both the healing literature they reference and what I get from Filius tell me that the problem with targeting the nervous system is visualization. It is easier to regrow bones, for instance. You can feel them. And then you visualize them."

"But if Antonin Dolohov was able to construct a curse that targeted the nervous system..." Minerva began.

"I think the world has already figured out that it is much easier to cause damage than it is to prevent it or fix it."

"Too true," she said and she nodded sadly.

"We got an owl from Arthur. He's keeping an ear out for us at the Ministry. He says things will be a while. Even those members of the Wizengamot who do not want to bring charges, do not wish to be seen as being hasty. There will be an investigation. Aurors will interview people." He paused. "And they need to exhume the body you buried."

She shuddered.

* * *

The following morning there was a knock at the door.

"It's the Aurors," she managed from the window. She looked at Severus and he was white. Rigid. "You alright, Severus?"

There were two of them, a man and a woman. She didn't recognize either one. Someone at the Ministry had probably ensured that they would not deal with anyone they knew personally. The female Auror took Minerva's wand. The former headmistress had to tell herself to stay focused as she tried to think if anyone had ever taken her wand from her before. Severus made a step toward her as the Aurors were guiding her out. "Tell Rhoda, Severus. And meet me at the Ministry," she told him. And the door closed behind them.

...

He moved through the Ministry hallways with quick determination. Dressed in the black frock coat he had favored while at Hogwarts, he felt somehow more prepared to face things. Minerva was taken into a room for questioning and Severus was left to wait outside. A dimpled, middle -aged witch with short auburn hair strode toward him and offered her hand. "You must be Severus. I'm Rhoda. Minerva told you I was representing her, yes." He shook her hand and answered affirmatively. "Is she in there?" she asked gesturing at the closed door. He nodded. As she knocked on the door, she told him, "We are going to fight this. We'll fight it hard. I don't want you to worry."

Feeling incredibly superfluous, he took up a seat. So many strong women had swept into his life over the past few months that he was becoming accustomed to feeling awash in estrogen.

Inside the small windowless room, the Aurors asked questions while a clerk took dictation. Minerva answered the questions without any move to conceal the facts. Rhoda's cautioning hand flew to Minerva's arm more than once. In no time, the basic story was laid out. Forcefully pushing out her chair, Rhoda quickly insisted that her client would answer no more questions and that charges simply be filed.

The trio traveled back to the house at Spinner's End. Nearly nothing was said until they sat around the kitchen table.

"Before trial, we can hope to whittle down the charges," Rhoda informed them. "We will use whatever method we can. These things are highly political. We can not be above garnering public sentiment. Then, at trial, we can hope to beat any serious charges..."

"There will be no trial to determine my guilt or innocence, because I am guilty," Minerva informed her friend.

Rhoda gripped her head in a fleeting, although pained gesture. "You are, quite simply, the worst client I've ever had." Minerva looked offended and Rhoda waved a conciliatory hand. "Alright, alright. We'll do it your way. Now there is one advantage to skipping the trial. You can avoid an appearance before the whole Wizengamot. When charges are brought before the full session, I will enter your plea. Then later, there will be a sentencing hearing before only the Committee on Magical Justice.

"Shacklebolt has already let the Wizengamot know he will recuse himself," Rhoda explained. "So that rules out the whole body hearing your sentencing. By doing that, the Minister is sending the message that this case is trumped up. Still, you are caught in a bit of a backlash against what some are calling the "cowboy attitude" of the Order. Now that there is no threat, there is also no patience for the sort of unchecked actions the Order took. Many, many people are insisting on more over sight, more checks and balances.

"More bureaucracy," Severus sneered as he pushed up from the table. "Bureaucrats never won a war."

"No," Rhoda told him, "but they rule the peace."

Severus started to pace.

Minerva cut in. "So, at sentencing we point out the extenuating circumstances and hope for a lighter sentence."

"Yes, but do not think that I will let you plead guilty to trumped up charges, Minerva," Rhoda told her firmly. "For now, we wait. Once the body is exhumed and identified, things will move more quickly."

"When do expect that will be?" Minerva asked.

"There is a team of Aurors at Hogwarts today. If the identification is straight forward, we will have a name tomorrow."

"Rhoda," Minerva said softly. "Would you let it be known that I am willing to meet with the family and apologize for what I did."

At this, Severus stopped his pacing. This was a mistake, he was sure of it.

Rhoda nodded and wrote in her notebook.

"Severus, now I'm going to ask Minerva to tell me all the details behind what happened with your relationship," Rhoda said. "It's not idle curiosity. It pertains to her motivation. But... I am thinking you might not be the type to want to listen to all this talk about who fell in love when... "

"I'll be in the living room," he growled and left.

The two friends talked awhile in the kitchen while Severus suffered through the muffled tones and hushed laughter. He pushed at the slats on the louvered shutters in his windows, blew at the dust on the sash, and kept an ear out for the occasional, decipherable word. About 30 minutes later, Rhoda came out and started putting on her traveling robes.

"Alright," she said in a confident tone. "Let me go stir up some things."

Minerva pleaded, "Oh, Rhoda. Nothing unseemly. Agreed?"

"Unseemly?" her friend replied with a wicked smile, "Minerva. You wound me."

Once they were alone, Minerva walked over to her husband, placed her forehead firmly into his chest, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed him tightly enough to alarm him. She let out a frustrated scream before saying, "God, what a horrible day. And there are more coming before we are done."

He was looking down at her quizzically, surprised at how quickly her mood had changed. Women were frightening, he had long ago concluded. This one was no exception. She was frightening, powerful, and (based on the way she was smacking her head into his chest repeatedly), he was guessing she was unhappy. Suddenly, she stopped, looked up at him, and announced. "I need some Comfort Sex."

"Comfort Sex?" Lost, he started to shake his head. "Are these things defined somewhere. Is there a menu that says something like Pu Pu Platter comes with egg roll, wontons and shrimp and Comfort Sex would include... "

"Oooo. Egg roll and wontons definitely. No shrimp." She told him as she began to kiss him. The kissing he understood, so he threw himself into it. "Mmm," she told him, once she felt thoroughly snogged. "Appetizers."

Feeling he was (hopefully) on the right track, he tried more "appetizers." He was nibbling on her earlobe and teasing a nipple, when he heard her say, "I had Chinese food once at a place where you would order by number. We could do that."

"Order by number?" In his confusion, he was unable to move. One hand was frozen on her breast, the other at her waist. He looked at her thinking _why can't sex just mean sex?_ Then his eyes involuntarily rolled up to the ceiling as she used her tongue on his neck. "Oh, God. Oh, order by number. This menu would it have a lot of items on it?" He brought his lips down to her neck to retaliate and then purred. "Would this menu go up to say 70?"

"Very nearly, yes..."

* * *

The next morning the wizarding newspapers were delivered by Rhoda's owl. Severus groaned as he unrolled the first one. He read the headline out loud. " 'A Desperate Act of Love... A Crime?' " His wife gave him an apologetic look and settled into the chair across from him.

Minerva opened the Wizarding Standard while Severus read the Daily Prophet, both featured their story as front page news.

"Oh, this is embarrassing," Minerva said, exasperated. "I asked that she not make me look as if I was... well, mental! And instead she has painted me as some absurd romantic heroine. Tell me, Severus, could you really ever consider me a 'Juliet for the Ages.' Juliet was 13!"

It was then that she noticed he had his head in his hands and that he was making snuffling noises. "Severus, are you crying, choking, or laughing? Dearest?"

He was, she discovered when he raised his head, doing all three. "Rita Skeeter writes, '...seeing the stress of fighting Voldemort writ plainly on her love's face, on that final meeting she thought of only one thing! She must save his life and spare him any future pain.' What did you actually tell Rhoda, Minerva?"

"I told her that whenever I saw you, you looked like hell ..." she began, but she was drowned out by his groan.

He looked down and saw a piece of parchment that they had dropped in opening the newspapers. "You need to see this," he told her. "It's from Rhoda. There's a list of questions Witch Weekly would liked answered for their story on you."

Taking the proffered parchment, she balled it up and tossed it into the air. Neatly drawing her wand before the ball fell, she incinerated it.

He stood up and stamped on the glowing ashes and then wordlessly walked for the door to the hallway. "Where are you going?" she called after him.

"I've had my breakfast, there's really nothing else to accomplish today until Rhoda comes by. So, if you promise to not set fire to my house, I'm going to go lie down. I am open to the notion that someone will come make my fantasies come true. Or read me more from the paper. I can't decide which would be more ...enjoyable." And he left the room.

She scooped up the newspapers and followed him down the hall.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you all for the reviews. They are not just exciting to get, but truly helpful. Many people have prompted me to address things and I am always glad to hear if something I thought was funny, actually was funny. Often I start a gag I like and then I fear I have run too far with it. I may, perhaps, be down the block with it when my poor readers were hoping I would just stop at the end of the driveway.**

**Excessivelyperky has inspired the run of puns. But, in fairness complaints should be directed to me for taking things too far.**

* * *

"Get up, Woman," he said to the sleeping figure in his bed. "I'm off for the Ministry and I want to know what you plan on doing with yourself today."

She managed a groggy moan before telling him, "Severus, if you would just wait a minute. I think I may be able to lay hands on my brain.

"The whole Chinese Menu Sex thing was too much for you?" he whispered as he leaned over her.

"Please, I don't even want to think about it. If I had the energy, I would blush. I really can't believe I came up with such a thing... and two nights running was really, well... perhaps a bit much."

He headed for the door with what he was sure was a well-earned smirk. "If you can manage to drag yourself to the kitchen, there is tea and scones."

"You baked?" she asked.

"No. I walked down to the corner."

Once in the kitchen, she rubbed at her eyes and stretched like a tired cat. "Alright. I'm awake. Come here," she said pulling him into a quick kiss. "I want to apologize for my _**wonton**_ behavior last night." Her mouth twitched at the pun.

"And you will get no more of that if you insist on assaulting me with such... humor."

"So, why are you off to the Ministry?" she asked.

"Shacklebolt wants to see me. Someone needs to verify I am who I say I am. Apparently, conspiracy theories abound."

"Should I go with you?"

"Just stay here. Please."

...

The Minister calmly strode from behind his desk to firmly shake Severus' hand, prompting Severus to say, "I take it that means you believe I am who I say I am."

"I do. I do. I am even glad to see you," the deep voiced man replied with a ghost of a smile.

"But you need to be able to satisfy everyone's worries and tell them it is really me."

"Yes. So, if you would not mind."

Severus suffered silently but petulantly, through the Minister's inspection. Shacklebolt had a Healer from St. Mungo's and an Auror examine him. Both men found Snape's demeanor to be frightening although Severus did nothing overt. Once he was checked for glamours and curses, they inspected his wand and asked him to cast a Patronus.

Finally, he was told he could leave and he did so without a departing word.

...

When Severus returned to his place at Spinner's End, he found Minerva writing letters at the sitting room's small desk.

"How did it go?" she asked in a gentle voice, knowing that after such an outing he was likely to be in a bad mood.

"Well, apparently, both our hopes that I would turn out to secretly be someone else have been dashed. You and I are both stuck with me as Severus Snape."

She stood up and walked over to him and playfully tapped him on the cheek. "Snap out of it, would you? Whoever you are, I prefer the surly version to this self-loathing one. And I'm going to want you on good behavior, because we need to go back to the Ministry this afternoon."

He groaned. "Whatever for?"

"The Aurors identified the body in the grave at Hogwarts." His eyes narrowed to hers and he searched her for a hint of how she was taking this. "And the widow is eager to meet with me. The meeting has been arranged by the Under Secretary for Magical Justice for this afternoon at 2pm."

"Who was it?"

"Cadmus Cardea."

"An idiot," Severus said. "Riddle dispatched him himself. Finally fed up with him in those last minutes."

...

Severus, Rhoda and Minerva stood outside the meeting room, waiting. The Under Secretary for Magical Justice was a small, dark, toad-like man named Wilkes. He swept toward them with a young man who was clearly an Auror, and a woman and child Minerva took to be the family of Cadmus Cardea. The three waited for the Under Secretary's group to walk silently into the room. Before Minerva could cross the threshold, Rhoda held her arm and whispered to her. "The widow's name is Ursula, her daughter is 7. Her name is Jamie. And Minerva? I don't like this set up at all."

Minerva simply told her, "It has to be done," and walked into the room. Rhoda and Severus followed.

The widow's young daughter was a blonde, pale and frightened girl who worked to conceal herself behind her mother's gray robes.

The parties all remained standing. Minerva took up a spot a respectful distance in front of Ursula and said, "Seventeen years ago I was in your shoes, Mrs. Cardea. Are you sure you want your child in the room?" Minerva's words were sympathetic, but there was a firm edge to them. Already, it was clear that the meeting would turn confrontational.

"I want her to see you," the woman said in low threatening tones.

"Why?"

"Oh, not just because of what you did to her father, but because of what you are." The woman's eyes moved from Minerva to Severus as she spoke. Ursula lunged forward and spit on Severus. He was largely impassive, although with slowness he wiped his jaw clean, never taking his eyes from the woman.

The Auror made to step between them but he was waved off by a small motion Under Secretary Wilkes made.

Minerva stepped forward and keeping her voice firm she told the woman, "He has nothing to do with what I did."

"He is a Death Eater and he should have died when it was his time, not turned tail. You!" and she slapped Minerva across the face, "are just the slut who serves him."

"We are finished here," Minerva said, turning on her heel and moving for the door that Rhoda had already opened.

"You are not fit to have touched my husband's body," the widow shrilled after Minerva.

The Under secretary and the Cardeas stayed in the conference room. The Auror, however, was walking behind Severus who had taken up a place defensively behind Rhoda and Minerva. Once Rhoda and Minerva turned a corner, Severus stopped short and caught the Auror with his shoulder in the man's chest. He never laid a hand on him, but he rendered the man breathless and wide eyed.

"You are the Under Secretary's lackey? You were in that room to see that the parties dealt with each other fairly, but the Under Secretary's running some kind of game? Care to tell me about it?"

Severus felt a firm hand grip his elbow and knew it was Rhoda, although he never took his eyes from the Auror.

"Severus, there you are," Rhoda said, affecting a sweet, distracted demeanor. "I have some paper work I want you to look at, can we talk?" The Auror took his chance to slide away, Severus' eyes burning a hole in his back. "Things are political," Rhoda told him once they were alone. "We can see that plainly now, Severus. Tempers, even justifiable ones, will get us no where. Let's catch up with Minerva and get out of here."

...

The two women sat in Severus' sitting room, but Severus stood. His eyes still showed his anger over what transpired at the Ministry.

"I was widowed, Severus, and with a young child. I can understand some of how she felt," Minerva told him.

"You had nothing to do with her husband's death," he said fiercely.

"**_Only_** because he was already dead when I got to the shack, Severus," she shot back. She leveled a cold eye at him. "And I am the closest she is going to get to someone to blame."

"Folks," Rhoda said, "I expect the list of formal charges to be delivered here in the next two hours. Let's send out for food and settle in to wait. How about some take out sushi?"

"Anything but Chinese," Minerva said suddenly in a better mood.

"What!" Rhoda complained sensing she was missing something.

"You don't want to know," Severus assured her in a tired voice.

An hour and a half later, the formal list sat on the battered kitchen table in front of them.

"'Falsifying an Official Wizarding Document,'" Rhoda read. "'Misuse of a corpse, _**Desecrating**_ a corpse?' Oh, we can get THAT one dropped, that's ridiculous." Rhoda said. "'Fraud.' Now you were named by Severus as the sole beneficiary of his estate, but you never filed for the will to be settled. And with the back log of wills to adjudicate, his case never came up. Thank goodness or there would be a whole 'nother sticky wicket to contend with. I will push to get that dropped as well."

"So, if we are lucky she will only face sentencing for Falsifying an Official Document and Misuse of a Corpse?" Severus asked.

"Yes," Rhoda answered, "But that could still lead to jail time. It is very unfortunate that we are dealing with Chauncey Cullen, he is the idiot that prepared this list of charges, and Under Secretary Wilkes. He seems very cozy with the Widow Cardea."

So, what next, Rhoda?" Minerva said, trying to sound upbeat.

"I am going to Hogwarts to interview Hagrid since he was the one who witnessed most of what you did to bury the body. I'll get a sworn statement from him detailing that the body was properly handled. That will be helpful in getting the Desecrating charge dropped. Then I'll get statements from Gringott's Bank showing that Minerva never accessed any of your funds. All of this is patently ridiculous now that you have married him, anyway."

Rhoda stood and came over to Minerva's side of the table and laid a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "There are a lot of things we can do to make this come out right. And I will do them all. But prepare yourself. When you appear before the Committee for Magical Justice it is going to be a circus. In the mean time, I am going to keep public sympathy with you by getting that Witches Weekly article to come out next week."

"But I never answered those questions," Minerva objected.

"I know you didn't. So, I did," Rhoda said with a smile. "I'll let you know what happens with a revised charges list as soon as I hear."

Severus helped Rhoda with her cloak and saw her to the door.

...

That night, Minerva was lying in bed reading when Severus walked in from his shower. "Love?" she said. "I'm going to ask Rhoda if there is any reason why we can't go back to Scotland. I really thought the ministry would move quicker. But it's just dragging out and I don't want to wait here. Is that alright?"

"I want to get back, too," he told her. "But, I've got a list of books and supplies to pick up in Diagon Alley. If Rhoda says there is nothing to prevent you going back, just go tomorrow morning. And I can meet you back at the cottage the following day."

She didn't say anything, but the look told him something was wrong.

"What?" he asked.

"I know it's inevitable that we will spend our first night apart since we've been married. But I don't want it to be so soon. Alright?"

"Alright, I can be back at the cottage sometime tomorrow night, I think."

...

The couple traveled to Diagon Alley early the next morning. Although Severus was wary of appearing in public after the cursed letter they had received, he found that no one approached them. Then, of course, he had always known people were not as brave in person.

They visited a new book store together, both coming away with a small bundle of materials. Minerva wanted to shop for something for the children back at the clinic. Insisting that all the children needed was books, Severus worked to dissuade her from entering the Weaselys' shop.

"Oh, Severus. You just don't want to be seen with a madwoman who's carting around stuffed animals," she teased. "And I suppose that is perfectly understandable. How about we meet back up in 45 minutes and I promise anything embarrassing I buy will be properly wrapped and reduced?"

He would not agree to leave her, so he had to be content with allowing her to enter the shop while he waited outside.

Their final stop was the Leaky Cauldron. From there, Minerva could Floo home. She knew he would not kiss her in public and so, she pulled him behind the stone chimney and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you," she whispered.

"I'll see you tonight," he said. Minerva smiled with amusement and decided to interpret that as 'I love you, too.'

...

Brushing off her robes and ducking her head, Minerva stepped from the fireplace at the Clinic. A familiar voice called out to her. She was momentarily disoriented as she had not seen her mother in this house in years. Helen sat in a wing back chair, with a book in her lap, looking so genuinely pleased to see her daughter, that Minerva sensed things must be going very well. Walking over to the chair, she kissed her mother's cheek and smiled at her. "I didn't expect you here. How long have you been here?"

"Oh, I've been here a week. I was going to go back to France, but things here have been so enjoyable. So interesting! And then of course you and Severus were not back yet, so I had to wait."

"What has been so interesting?"

"Oh, I've been drawing with the children here every morning. And every afternoon we do the Queen's Tea."

"The Queen's Tea? Who's the Queen?" Minerva asked.

"We take turns!" she told her daughter with delight.

...

Severus came back to the cottage so late that night that Minerva was already in bed. When she heard the front door close, she called down, "Otto? Is that you? Hurry up, my husband will be home soon."

Severus cleared his throat to enable him to produce the higher tones he would need and in an impressive imitation of the Hogwarts Charms professor, he called up, "It's Filius."

"Ooooo, lovely! Did you bring your brother?" came her reply.

Severus walked into the room and found his wife propped up in bed reading. She glanced at him over the top of her spectacles. "Severus, did you pass anyone on the stairs?"

"You're stuck with me, Witch," he said as he took off his coat. "What are you reading?" he asked. "Is that one of the books you picked up this morning?"

"Yes, a waste of time and still, here I sit."

"Another cat toy catalogue?"

"Ha!" she uttered dismissively. "No. It's called _What Wizards Want_. I will be writing my own book called _Wizards Need to Grow Up and Stop Asking for Things_.

Suitably undressed, Severus climbed into bed. "So what does this book say I want?"

"Your own room, Quidditch tickets, and the right to be lost without ever asking for directions."

"I like my current roommate," he said taking the book away from her. "And I could never watch Quidditch unless you were there to lecture me over every call," he said holding out his hand for her spectacles in a long practiced motion. She handed them over and waited for him to place them on the bedside table before waving the lights out.

"And when we are in bed," she told him in a delicious whisper, "I find you are never lost and follow directions exceedingly well."

"You _**wonton**_ sex kitten." Severus said, and she could feel his smile pressed into her neck.

"The life of that pun is officially over," she told him. "And... if you are angling for sushi, I can't tell you where to get soy sauce tonight, but I can shoyu tamari."

"You are jumping from Chinese to Japanese food metaphors in your puns now?" he accused. "How low will you sink?"

"I know my puns are awful. I told my puns to a cannibal and he **_threw up_** his hands!"

"Minerva. This is undignified."

"You know it's not all work for cannibals, they like to play 'swallow the leader.'"

"When you were in the Weaselys' shop, you got a joke book. Didn't you," he said in a pained voice.

"Sssh! One more and then I'll quit," she told him excitedly. But he was moving to roll away from her in protest. She climbed on top of him to prevent his escape.

"Minerva?" he said in the most world-weary voice he could manufacture.

"Sssh, stop squirming. Last one, I promise. 'Two brooms were in the quidditch shed. After a while they got to know each other so well that they decided to get married.   One broom was, of course, the bride broom. The other, the groom broom.   The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress. The groom broom was gorgeous in his formal robes. After the wedding, the bride broom told the groom broom, "I think I'm going to have a little whisk broom!'   'Impossible!' said the groom broom. 'We haven't even **swept** together!'"

"If I had a gag, woman, I would use it on you."

"Oh, please Severus. I am the only one in this marriage with gags."

* * *

A round of fortune cookies to ExcessivelyPerky for the pun that started it all

She emailed me with "Chinese menu sex is WONTON BEHAVIOR."

The broom pun and the cannibal puns I found on line (and altered to suit me). They were uncredited. and I have since lost the link. Good thing, too, or there might be more puns coming.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: ****Warnings!! for a somewhat mature discussion of sexual failings. **

**Many, many thanks to Selmak who sagely suggested much in the way of thoughts and inner turmoil (for the characters, I manage those for ME on my own!) Errors remain mine. And there are likely more than a few. I have battled this chapter (along with the heat) this week. And I just can't stand to look at it any longer.  
**

* * *

"You are unhappy with me," he insisted quietly.

She put down her cup of tea hastily, and willing herself to stay expressionless, she looked at the man who had just walked into the dining room. "Not that I remember," she told him. "But I would not rule out senility at my age. If you've done something horrid, consider this a reprieve, since I remember none of it." She really thought that should have diffused the situation, but even though he came and sat down for breakfast, she could see he was still bothered. If anything, his forced attempt at composure was a clear indication that he was feeling rather un-composed. Gone, that morning, was the easier air he had adopted with her in recent months.

It was the sex, she knew, that worried him. That was what had him convinced that she was angry. He would worry that it was him, convinced that it was something he had done or not done.

But she wasn't mad. And it wasn't him. But God, that didn't mean she wanted to talk about it. Alright, she hadn't climaxed the night before. And, yes, she had been unwilling to continue with things once it felt, well... fruitless and other-worldly. Once her thoughts had turned from the moment to an examination of herself, once she had begun to question why it was happening (or NOT happening), it was pointless. Hers had not been the sort of thoughts that are very helpful when one is orgasm hunting. And so she had made the choice to pack it in, so to speak. She had urged him to climax without her, because whether he believed her or not, that was enough for her right then.

Then this morning she had snuck out of the bed before he woke. Purposely... _**snuck**_. And out of her own damn bed, because she knew the man would take it as a point of pride or honor and try to please her that morning. And it is not always true that someone really ought to get back on every horse she has fallen off. She looked at him again and felt guilty, because what she wanted to do was yell, "_Just stop trying so hard!"_

"I'm not mad, Severus. You're mad. Please stop. Have breakfast. I've kept the toast warm for you," she said indicating a covered plate. "And there is your favorite jam." She paused for a moment or two to make a show of buttering her own toast. "My mother is here, by the way."

Looking shocked, he stopped with the cover for the plate of toast in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.

"Sorry," she said. "Not HERE in the house. Here in Scotland. She is up at the Clinic. I take it you didn't see her last night when you came home?"

"No, I didn't see her." After a false start with things moving in the wrong direction, he managed to get the toast onto his plate and the cover back where it belonged.

"So, after breakfast, what do you want to do?" she asked.

"I hope Niall and Asha can fit in some time to talk to me about setting up a more complete lab at the clinic. And I need to Owl Filius and find out his schedule for the summer. I am hoping he has some time to spare me. I think he would be the best person to approach the development of the charms necessary to target the nervous system." His sentence trailed off and he was looking at her critically. He was thinking, she knew, about the orgasm. Well, the lack of orgasm. Again.

She could tell. An old, married witch like Minerva knew these things.

_What went wrong last night?_ he wondered. Oh, he knew she would tell him nothing was wrong. But why else would she slink out this morning? It was probably a mistake to gauge his marriage on what went on in bed, but it really had worked so far. And so, he did rely on that measure more than others. If a prickly man like Severus Snape had a favorite form of communicating, it was going to be one where the lights were dim, the words were few, and the outcome easily understood. Given last night's outcome and this morning's fall out, it was clear to this man that something was wrong. And worse, she wouldn't tell him what it was.

Selfishly, he needed things to be good and whole between them right now. Selfishly, he was quietly, but thoroughly undone with the worry that the sentencing would take her away, or that fate would punish him and take her in some other way. Being who he was, he worried that in his bumbling way, he would drive her off.

Then this morning she wasn't there.

He could feel the worry settle into his features and knew that she would see it. And he was past fighting it.

_Oh, Merlin,_ she thought. _He is making this hard._ She put down her tea and very carefully locked eyes with him, so there would be complete understanding and NO (please God) need to belabor or repeat things.

Softly, she said, "It just happens, Severus. There doesn't have to be a reason. So there is no reason to talk about it."

"Has it happened before?" he asked cautiously. He visibly steeled himself for the answer.

"That would be how I know it happens," she said dryly.

"With me?" he asked with a voice that sounded like a wince.

"So, you are asking me if this has happened with you before and if I have managed to conceal the fact by perhaps faking an orgasm?" she said, being purposely and painfully blunt.

He held perfectly still, transmitting the word YES?

"No. That was the first time it had happened with you," she told him and he felt better. "Not that every orgasm is earth shattering," she confessed. And now he felt worse.

His head snapped away from her and she knew she was handling this horribly. She pushed her napkin onto the table and stood. Even after she was standing next to him, he would not look at her. Insinuating herself between his chest and the table, she managed to squeeze onto his lap.

Avoiding his eyes she slid her head to his shoulder and told him, "I love you. I need you here with me. You are the man I want in my bed. You are not the problem. There is _**no**_ problem."

"Then why," he said carefully, "did you make sure you were out of bed this morning before I was awake?"

She groaned, ashamed and caught out. "Because you would have wanted to try again. And I didn't want that. Because..." and she trailed off. "Because if it did happened again, I might think there was a problem."

They sat there in silence a while. His hands were around her, his cheek on her shoulder. But he was afraid to kiss her. His brain was racing and there was no relief. No answers. Finally, she asked him while she stroked his hair, "Am I keeping you from finishing your breakfast?"

"No," he said simply.

"Will you walk with me up to the clinic?"

"Gladly."

"And will you hold my hand," she asked hoping to make amends with him.

"Anything," he confessed quietly as he rubbed his cheek against her shoulder.

...

"Did Niall ask your mother up here to help with Zoe?" he said as they slowly walked the path to the main house.

"Yes. And I think she's done a great deal for Zoe somehow. I saw the children yesterday. Zoe is not the way she was before that night. But she is ... God, I guess 'functional' is the term." she told him sadly. "She is functioning. Not hysterical or catatonic. But not alright, surely."

He nodded and things went silent again for a while.

By the time they got to the clinic they at least seemed content with one another again. He was discussing all of the supplies that he had purchased and the restricted ingredients that he had placed on order with the supplier he was registered with. There was humorous talk of how to lure Filius to the clinic. Happily, she noted that he talked with something resembling enthusiasm.

When they walked through the door, Helen and Niall were coming from the dining room. Helen greeted them with a happy smile and walked up to Severus to clasp his arms. "Just the man I have been looking for," she said mischievously. "So, what are you going to call me? You are stuck now! Really, in more ways than one," she said winking. "You must think of something. I insist. Mum? Mother? Helen?"

"'Helen' sounds more than adequate," he told her as he deftly removed her hands from him, held them and dropped them. He had no desire to be rude, but he suspected she would use the physical contact to pull information from him.

"You are a new man, Severus." She scrutinized him, interested and intrigued. "There is a lot of change to see, and still much...

"Dear woman...," he interrupted in clenched tones. "Helen, have you thought that your comments would be more welcome if they were spoken to me in private?"

"Indeed? It would be good to talk to my son-in-law," she said, undeterred. Then with a raised gray eyebrow she motioned to the doors that led to the patio. "Shall we?" she prompted. They walked out together as Minerva and Niall watched.

"This is not at all a good day for this," Minerva said as she watched the pair leave.

"It'll be fine, Mum," Niall said nervously.

"You have _**absolutely**_ no way of knowing that, Niall," she told him, her worried gaze never leaving her husband and mother.

It was then that Asha came out of the kitchen with Zoe.

"Niall," Asha called. "We are looking for your grandmother. Zoe wanted to do a picnic with her."

"She's out there," Niall told her motioning to where Severus and Helen sat on the patio deep in conversation. Niall had spoken quietly as if not wanting to break the spell Minerva was under. Minerva had yet to take her eyes from the scene.

Finally, Minerva turned and looked down at Zoe who stood with a blanket over her shoulder that reached nearly to the floor and a picnic basket at her feet. The sight made Minerva's worry ease.

Stepping forward to the girl, Minerva asked, "Zoe, will you let me stand in for my mother? I would love to have a picnic with you." She smiled down at Zoe who slowly smiled and nodded.

...

An hour later Severus was walking the grounds toward the old oak that was a favorite place for picnics. He saw Zoe there on a blanket with the oversized picnic basket, but he did not see Minerva. "Feste!" Zoe called out and waved an apple slice at him.

"Hello, Zoe," he said once he was closer. He was surprised when she shushed him.

"Tabby is sleeping," Zoe explained.

_So, that's where she is,_ Severus thought looking down at the prone cat.

"I wasn't the one screaming, Zoe," Severus explained, only to be ignored in favor of Tabby who was now being softly petted. "Maybe," Severus said with a wicked tone, "Tabby is only pretending to sleep."

"Are you afraid of Tabby?"

"No," he said simply.

"Then," she whispered, "why don't you sit down and pet her?"

"I'm fine," he told her.

He stood there feeling patently foolish, watching Zoe pet Minerva's tabby under the chin. Tabby's eyes were lightly closed and if a cat can smile, this one was. When the cat's ears began to twitch, Zoe, who was studying the cat closely, grinned. Slowly, the cat stretched and yawned prompting a smile from even Severus.

Tabby stood and circled Zoe, walking over her outstretched legs, making her laugh. She ended her walk in front of a deceptively severe-looking Severus. After staring up at him for a bit, the cat rose up on her hind legs, pressing her front paws on Severus' leg. "She wants you to sit down," Zoe tells him.

Severus' arms were crossed in front of him as he addressed the cat rather than Zoe, "Indeed?"

The standoff was ended when Niall approached, calling Zoe in to rest in her room. Zoe said good bye to Severus and then petted Minerva who did manage to press her cat head into the girl's hand, despite her watchdog-like position in front of her husband. Zoe walked off to meet Niall, and Severus and his Tabby wife were left alone under the oak.

"What are you trying to avoid by staying in cat form? Hmmm?" he asked.

The cat pushed off from his leg and began to wind herself between his shins.

"Is there a record for amount of time you have stayed as a cat?" he tried. But Minerva gave no sign she heard. She merely continued to thread her cat form through his legs. "Minerva," he said softy. "Is something bothering you? Is it to do with that idiot Wilkes? Or Cullen? Is this because of your mother?" The cat stopped and looked at him. Severus was being ignored, as he saw it. And he was tired of it.

"I think Zoe's wrong," he announced. "I see no indication at all that you understand a word that I am saying. Afterall, at this point your brain is the size of a walnut."

The cat's head suddenly pushed up his trouser leg and he felt a light nip through his sock which made him curse. Tabby walked behind Severus who had resolutely taken to staring at and it seemed, addressing the old oak.

"Severus," came Minerva's pleading tone behind him. He turned quickly trying not to show his surprise at her transformation. She kissed him, softly and chastely before taking his hand and walking him behind the large oak. He would prefer that no one from the clinic caught sight of them like this, she knew. Once they were hidden from view, she leaned into him and he rested his back against the tree to gather her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she said.

His eyes were an unspoken "why?"

"Just... everything," she said.

...

They carried the picnic blanket and basket back to the house, talking as they did about what Severus hoped to accomplish over the next few days. Once back, he showed her the lab in the basement and explained his plans for improving it.

"Back to the dungeons for you, eh, Love? she joked, but he hardly heard.

"It's a large enough space. And there is a bit of natural light, especially from those windows on the south wall," he said. "I can enlarge the ingredients storage space easily enough," he told her as he gestured toward the far corner, "but I've seriously underestimated the amount of potions making equipment I'll need."

She smiled as she followed him through the space, weaving in and out of the beams. She enjoyed hearing him talk at length about his plans and seeing him in a lab again.

"Why are you smiling at me like a bemused kneazel?" he asked when he finally stopped and turned to face her.

"When you are happy," she said placing a hand on his chest with theatricality. "I am happy," she told him placing the hand over her heart.

"Excellent motto," he teased her.

...

They enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the main house that night with Helen, Asha, and Niall. Helen proved herself to be a most amusing and informative dinner companion. Her intriguing stories made the evening pass deceptively quickly. Severus was surprised when Helen announced (after a particularly raucous story of Wizarding mischief behind the scenes at the Exposition Universelle of 1878 in Paris) that she was would retire to her bed. It was, she explained in reply to his confused look, already 11 pm.

It was like a repeat of a previous dinner the newlyweds had shared at the house early in their relationship. They stood with Niall in the foyer, discussing their plans for returning to the cottage. In the end, it was Severus who would Apparate them jointly as Minerva said she was feeling quite tired. After saying good night to her son, she turned to grip her husband about the waist and they Apparated to the hall at the top of the stairs in their cottage.

She smiled at him, and asked, "Want to sleep with me tonight? Just sleep?" in echo of that earlier night.

She was glad for the lateness of the hour. She was even glad for the easy excuse her fatigue gave her. When he joined her in bed, he spooned behind her, kissed her gently, but did not press for more. She took his hand from where it was draped across her and kissed the palm, told him she loved him, and fell quickly asleep.

In the morning, she woke far too early for her tastes. The heavy, practical window shades had not prevented the sun from waking her. It was her affliction that once awake, she could not go back to sleep. She whispered to Severus so he would be forewarned when he woke later and was alone. "Severus, love," she coo'ed into his ear.

"Hmmm" came his reply, his lips and his eyes remaining closed.

"I'm going down to have some breakfast. You go ahead and sleep in. It's early yet."

Wordlessly, he opened his eyes enough to get a bead on her and pull her back into the bed. "Stay," he told her.

"A bit, love. But I'll only keep you awake and there's no reason you shouldn't sleep."

"You could give me a good reason not to sleep," he prompted.

She knew that was coming. She wasn't in the mood with everything that was unanswered in her brain, and if she did yield to his wishes, it only increased the likelihood that things would end up as badly as before.

"I have a suggestion," she told him gently as she settled into his arms. "It might help me to wait a while. But I think it would be nice to ... well, let you tease me some. I was thinking we could carry on for a bit as if we were dating. Well, as if we were a more reserved, chaste couple dating," she said with a smirk

It was progress, he thought. She was willing to let him touch her. Soon, she was smiling her appreciation for the kisses he was pressing into the back of her neck as she lay on her stomach.

He then sadly pressed his cheek to her shoulder and curled up beside her. _The word_ 'c_onfused' did not even begin to cover this_, he thought.

* * *

**If you find the turn of events in this chapter disappointing - do think how poor Minerva feels. Even in fandom, life is not a bowl of cherries... or orgasms.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Many thanks to Selmak for the gracious help with this chapter! **

* * *

After breakfast, Severus gathered up his books and went to the bedroom he had occupied when he had been recovering. Minerva had suggested he make it into his study. Although, he was married now and he understood that concept in theory, it still felt odd to know that this women was turning over parts of her house to him. She came to check on his progress and hands on hips, she looked with approval at the collection of furniture he had moved from the attic and the sunroom to his new study. She then helped by transfiguring things to better suit his needs.

"What about the bed?" he asked.

"Keep it here," she suggested. "You never know when you'll need it."

"You may see me at work on a potion formula and become overcome with passion, throwing me to the mattress?" he queried in a droll voice, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other.

"That is possible," she drawled sarcastically, sounding exactly like the woman who bantered with him at Hogwarts, "but I was thinking that all husbands need a second place to sleep."

A quick mental glance at her internal snark-o-meter told her she was ahead on points. A smirk on her face, she made for the door, hoping to secure a decisive victory with a decisive exit. But she had congratulated herself too soon, because Severus had an arsenal at his disposal here at the cottage that he did not have at Hogwarts. And he was prepared to use it.

She tried to stifle her squeal as he caught her about the waist and brought her back into the room. At the bed's edge, he paused. Smiling wickedly, he slowly pressed her into the mattress. Keeping to the rules of chaste behavior Minerva had requested, Severus decided to improvise with a few tickles and a swat to her bottom. He was rewarded with a shade to her cheeks he did not remember seeing before.

"Point, set, match," he whispered in a self-satisfied voice.

...

After lunch at the cottage, they walked up to the clinic. Severus went to the lab to work on improvements there and Minerva followed to spend a few minutes with him. He was sketching out his ideas when she came over to his work bench to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'll see you after the Queen's Tea, Severus. I wouldn't want to miss this."

"Who is the queen today?" he asked with what appeared to be real interest.

"All I know is that it isn't my turn yet, for some reason!" she kidded on her way out.

As Minerva approached the group with Zoe, she was momentarily stunned by the spectacle in front of her, losing the ability to act with propriety. Zoe had to remind her with a serious sounding, little girl whisper that they must curtsy before the Queen, who today was Amanda. At Amanda's one side sat Helen who held the girl's hand lightly. And on the other side sat Jeremy who as the clinic's only boy got the benefit of getting to be the Queen's Consort on a regular basis.

All five of the clinic's children had been up for the outing. They sat under a brightly colored canopy in fine oak chairs that had been transfigured to fit them appropriately. The children were dressed in garish robes that clearly made them feel quite pleased with themselves. There were fairy patterns on the teacups and saucers, and costumed house elves poured the cinnamon tea. Would-be footmen (house elves in disguise) bore trays replete with apple salad and tea sandwiches. (The artichoke cheese triangles seemed to receive the most compliments, Minerva noted.) In a long succession of wonders, the group was fed cucumber sandwiches, ham salad in phyllo, and something called a veggie confetti. Minerva spent well over an hour in a state of constant amazement.

After the successful and rather dignified tea, Helen and Minerva walked the children back to the house. Helen rested her hand on Amanda's shoulder while she held Jeremy's hand.

"I'm glad you are here, Mother," Minerva said haltingly. There was a touch of guilt in her voice for having feared spending this time with her mother. "I'm such a practical person, I suppose. I've spent time with the children, but ... Well, what you do with them is wonderful."

"I was not as good a mother as I was a grandmother, Minerva. I know." It was a large admission and neither woman could meet the other's eyes. "And now, in large measure, I am merely acting the child," Helen joked to lighten the mood.

Once back inside the clinic, Minerva and Helen asked two house elves to take charge of the children and have them rest before dinner. Amanda's hands were still tightly wound into Helen's robes.

Helen stroked the girl's fisted hands and told her in a firm, gentle voice, "It was lovely having tea with you, Amanda, dear. Do go rest." There was the longest pause. And finally, the small hands relinquished the old witch's robe, but the head never lifted. The eyes never sought anyone out. Mercifully, Belsie, the old house elf, took the hands that Helen held and gently walked the young girl away to follow the others up the stairs.

"I have never seen Amanda leave the house before, Mother. I am not even sure if I have ever seen her downstairs before," Minerva said with amazement.

"She is trying so hard. And doing so well, isn't she? We held the first tea upstairs in the Common Room the children use. And then we held a few down here." The old woman smiled. "Right here actually, by the door. And, finally, one day we made it outside. It took us an hour, but we got out there. And she did not let go of me, not for a moment. And when we got back to this spot, she stood here. I didn't pull her from me, but I had to get her to move to Belsie again, which was difficult. We were here, in the foyer, a half hour."

"You are very patient with the children," Minerva told her with genuine admiration.

"You do not get to my age by being impetuous," she told her daughter matter-of-factly and if Minerva internally disagreed a bit, she did not show it. And then quietly, the old woman added, "Will it make you feel better if I tell you that if I hadn't gotten so much wrong with you, I would not be able to get so much right now, with them?"

Minerva smiled, and then quipped, good naturedly "Not particularly." Then with a hand to her mother's back she urged her to the library. "Come and sit down, Mother. You have to be tired. I know I am."

Once they were settled side by side in the library's twin wing back chairs, Minerva asked about Zoe.

"Niall was beside himself after the incident at the pond, Minerva," Helen explained. "After two days there had been no improvement and he Owl'd me. And I couldn't refuse him. He even came down to get me."

Minerva smiled at her mother, picturing the scene between her son and mother easily.

"I could see what was in her mind," Helen continued in a slow, serious voice. "I saw what happened with her parents and it was horrible. It was like a ruined landscape in her mind, really. Dark, so dark." She stopped to choose her words carefully. "There had been people I had to... work with when I was with the Ministry. People whose minds were destroyed," she told her daughter, shaking her head. "And Zoe's mind, while not broken, was hanging by a thread."

"But why did it affect her like that, so many months later?" Minerva asked.

"Do you think it is a coincidence that she walked into the pond on the night of your wedding?"

"I think it is obvious you have a theory you would like to share. Couldn't you just tell me what it is?" Minerva commented, frustrated by her mother's need to draw this out.

"The four of you were gone, Minerva. Yes, there were people here to look after her, but she felt abandoned. She hadn't thought about what had happened to her parents in all those months. Not a thought, Minerva! Her mind is incredibly powerful and she had created a lock box for that memory and for many others, both good and bad, that were too much for her. She was a girl without a past. She had chosen to forget so much. But what she felt that night started to bring it back. And she acted out the memories."

"The pond," Minerva said with realization.

"Yes," her mother said, nodding. "And when she understood what she was seeing again, that was when she started to shut down."

"How were you able to help her?"

"I gave her a choice. I told her she could have the memories erased completely or have them ... blunted."

"How could you do this, Mother?" Minerva's eyes had gone wide with disapproval.

"How could I not?" Helen countered. "Should I have left her to suffer the way she was?"

"She's not even 5 and you left the decision up to her?!" Minerva said, incredulous. "Shouldn't someone else have been consulted?"

"Who, Minerva? She's a ward of the Ministry. Would you put it to a vote in front of the Wizengamot?" Helen countered, color rising in her face.

Minerva was silent, accepting defeat.

"And Severus is very mixed up in this," Helen said with excitement. Helen's enthusiasm for the intellectual puzzle that Severus presented was plainly apparent. "She's so fond of him. That he was there to pull her out of the water. That he was able to communicate with her in her mind. These things are very important to how she sees him. It is very different from how she sees the other three of you." And her mother laughed a little. "It is not that she sees him as a child, but she does see him more as an equal where as she recognizes you, Niall, and Asha are adults."

"Do I want to know why?" came Minerva's wary-sounding question.

"Because she can see that he is a lot like her."

"In what way?" she asked with surprise.

"They are fellow lost souls. Did you know that when they met, she asked him if he could jump?" Minerva shook her head. "And he told her, 'No, that's why I'm here!' " Now Helen laughed again and even Minerva had to laugh being able to picture this perfectly.

"Zoe wants to help him," Helen eagerly explained.

"This can't be something we should encourage?"

"I think it is!" Helen answered.

"Did you mention this to Severus when you spoke?" Minerva asked.

"I did. And, of course, he thinks it is perfectly ridiculous which really only proves the point that the man needs help," Helen said emphatically.

"Must you talk about my husband like this?" Minerva complained.

"There is so much hurt in the two of you and so much of it shared. Of course you two get along. But he doesn't have the other half to balance it. He doesn't have the sense of joy you have... Or that willingness to love."

"That isn't true, Mother," Minerva insisted firmly. Externally, she protested against what her mother was saying, but inside she had begun to worry that these things were too true.

"He is very sparing with it, Min. He saves it for you. He loves his work, too. But, only sometimes. And that is it. Minerva, if I asked you what you loved, it would be a long list, wouldn't it? So, when things are not going well for him with what he is working on or when he is fighting with you – he is dangerously adrift. He is in uncharted territory with you, Minerva, wary of his actions and then wary of their outcome."

"'Uncharted territory' is a phrase he has used," she admitted with a sigh.

"It isn't that he has never tried to love someone, Minerva. It is that he has tried and been refused and rebuked. He's been made to feel the fool for having tried. To know how to love, you have to have been loved. And worse yet, is that he does not always feel worthy of being loved."

Minerva sighed feeling the weight of her mother's words on her. "Oh, Mum," she said finally.

"You knew all of this, Minerva. I know you did," her mother said gently with a hand to the younger woman's forearm.

"I did. But I've been selfish, I suppose. I just wanted it to be ... easier. As easy as it could be for us."

"If you'll be honest with yourself, Min, you'll see that you two are working at odds. He has his fears and you have yours. The two of you are so proud," she said shaking her head, "that you try to battle your demons separately. Be prepared, Minerva. That is all I am saying."

...

Minerva retrieved Severus from the potions lab and insisted he walk with her back to the cottage.

"Severus, come over here," Minerva said as she rounded the corner of the small barn outside the cottage. "There's a wedding present from my mother."

Severus stood impassively across from Minerva on the far side of an oversized hammock.

"Come on," Minerva prodded gently. "It's big enough for two. Actually, that was her whole point in getting us the hammock, so we could lie in it together."

A look of doubt was on Severus' face.

" 'The secret to a happy marriage,' that's what my parents called it Or as my father would say, 'You can't fight in a hammock because you'd be fighting on the ground,'" she said with a nostalgic smile. She ran her hand over the hammock's ropes and told him, "My father wasn't well those last 10 years. His heart was weak after an extended fever. He still did everything he could, but it was like watching someone live in slow motion. He would putter around the gardens, fix things in the barn, and he and my mother spent hours in the hammock together. Reading or talking or napping."

The look of intractability began to soften as he realized how important this was to Minerva.

"Get in as a favor to me," came her light words and the man silently and slowly lowered himself until he was sitting in the hammock. Minerva did the same from the other side. Soon they managed to lie down together and he closed his eyes. For a moment he was actually enjoying himself. There was the most pleasant of breezes, his wife was nestled against him. He tried to roll a bit to make things more comfortable for them and the hammock began to pitch. Suddenly, she cursed, shot up, and then when she was sitting on the edge of the hammock, she clutched her stomach and threatened to vomit.

Severus carefully extracted himself from the hammock and stood by her side. "You are pale, Minerva."

"Oh, there is nothing I abhor more than nausea. I was a total wreck pregnant." She drew her hand across her forehead and found she was sweating. "You can be nauseous without being pregnant, Severus," she said in response to the panicked look the word 'pregnant' had gotten her. "It would be a nearly impossible feat at my age."

"Why did you say 'nearly?'" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Because someone would have to slip me a few potions and there would need to be some charms work done to fool my ovaries and a few angels on high would probably need to be involved. Well, and you. But I guess that is the one thing we can account for...

"Why can't you just say it's 'impossible?'"

Suddenly she stood, a look of frozen panic on her face. "I feel like a complete idiot. And I feel decidedly unwell." He called after her but she showed no sign of hearing him.

She walked into the old barn.

Her back was to him and she had leaned her head against the post. When she heard him behind her she dug at her eyes with the heel of her hand hurriedly. "What are you doing in here, Minerva?" he said gently.

Finally, her voice shaking with emotion, she managed to say, "Hiding."

_From what?_ he thought. What could do this to her? This woman had battled Riddle on that final day. Had been through three wars. But _**he**_ was what she seemed to avoid most often lately.

"Who are you hiding from?" he asked.

"It's old age I've been trying to escape, I suppose," came the admission. She turned then to face him, but her eyes were unfocused. She stood straight, very straight, her hands clasped in front of her. "But I think I've been caught out," she said quietly.

He stood directly in front of her and held her by the arms. "You need to tell me what is going on, Minerva. One minute we are getting into a hammock and now, well... now you are scaring the Hell out of me."

She laughed a short pained laugh that only made him worry more. "The hammock made me nauseous. You see, when I was pregnant, it would be something like that that set me off. And well, ...I've done something stupid."

"What?!"

"It makes sense that I would be nauseous, because apparently I've done something to my body that is very much like being pregnant. I've, ah, altered my hormone levels and I am guessing I've over done it."

"What have you been taking?"

"Ah, always the potions master," she shot back.

"Minerva!" he said quite sternly.

"I took some compounds I was given during menopause."

"What else, Minerva?" he said with indignation.

"A few other things... apparently, if taken together for oh, about 3 months," she said with as much sarcasm as her failing pluck would allow, "it becomes a problem. The past few days," she admitted, "I've felt like a bag turned inside out, Severus. All exposed. And on edge."

"You _**reckless**_ woman," he growled. "Why would you do this?"

"Because I am _**old**_, Severus," she said bitterly. "I wanted things to be like a proper marriage, with a proper sex life - not a geriatric field trip. "

"A proper marriage? Minerva, you are making yourself ill for what? So, that we can have sex at the drop of a hat? So, that we don't have to worry about..."

"I don't want to talk about this," she announced feeling a blush creep up on her. She held a hand up as if to stop any further words from him. Already, she could feel something like a hot flash radiate through her. And if this man mentioned personal lubrication at this point she was going to swoon in perfect Victorian fashion.

"Oh, I agree," he told her. "We are beyond talking."

"Don't you threaten me," she said giving him as much of the famed McGonagall glare as she could muster.

"Tell me you will give me 2 hours. No trouble from you for 2 hours." His eyes were stern.

"You **_are_** threatening me!" It was a bad sign when she began to roll her Rs. She had taken a defiant stance with him, but the longer he simply stared at her, the more her eyes showed her weakening.

He pressed his advantage. "I will hex you woman and take you off right now or you can tell me you will be cooperative for 2 hours."

She pinched her brow and dropped her head in shame and resignation. "I'll cooperate."

"Thank you," he whispered and stepping closer he put his arms around her and Apparated them to the clinic's library where the Floo access was.

Moving quickly, he put her in a chair and then turned to the door. He was business-like, efficient, and brusque. With rapid wand work, he closed and warded the door to the library. With long strides, he was at the fireplace to Floo call the Hogwarts Headmaster's office.

"Filius," he called out. "Talk to me."

"Severus, my boy, to what do I owe..." came Filius Flitwick's distinctive voice.

"Is Poppy in the Infirmary?" Severus asked in a tense voice.

"She is. What's wrong?" Filius sputtered.

"Tell her we are coming for a visit and to clear her schedule..."

Then he turned to gather Minerva up.

...


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Chew this slowly as it will be over a week before I will post again.**

**Once again, many thanks to Selmak for time and wisdom received.**

**I dedicate this chapter to my friend Wendy who was an OB/GYN PA. (I think I was subconsciously channeling her wonderful frankness on sexual topics for Poppy in this chapter.) She once told me I was woefully under informed about these matters, but we _were_ giggling teens then. Hopefully, I have learned a thing or two in the intervening years despite being denied her presence these last 4 years.  
**

**Being me, I never rule out the likelihood of ridiculously embarrassing myself.**

* * *

The wizards sat side by side on the age worn, wooden bench outside the infirmary. They were an odd pair: one over six foot and the other not quite five. Neither looked comfortable. At no time did Severus' eyes meet Filius'. He simply stared at the far wall. Filius, however, focused on the younger man's face hoping to understand the emotions behind the blank look.

"Do you feel alright, Severus?" Filius asked with concern.

"I have no idea. Mentally, I went numb." Severus' voice had a hint of surprise.

"Marriage will do that," Filius confirmed, quietly nodding.

Severus snorted. "I had actually meant just in the past two hours."

Filius worried how to say this. He swung his feet a bit and cleared his throat. "It's not that I'm not happy you two have gotten married. But, well. It was quick and ..."

"I couldn't let her face the Wizengamot on charges related to saving my life without marrying her," Severus said in a quiet voice.

"Are you in over your head?"

"HA. I've been in over my head for years. Really, is one witch more than all the rest I tried to handle?" They exchanged a quick and worrying look. "Well, this one, maybe. Yes," Severus confirmed with a sigh. "We are still waiting on the final list of charges from the Committee on Magical Justice. And I'm trying to get a lab set up and start the nerve research I wrote you about. Then this happens," Severus finished sadly.

"What was it, Severus? If I may ask?" Filius said a little nervously. "Her son and daughter in law are healers. Why did you bring her here?"

"It's a woman's thing. It's embarrassing enough for her. I thought she would do better with Poppy. She has complained about being old, about being older than me. At first, she mentioned it all the time. When she stopped mentioning it, I thought she was alright with it. But then she did this."

"What has she done?"

"She been taking things. Potions. I don't know how she got them. Things to change her hormones. Things she was hoping would make her feel younger."

Filius had to pull at his shirt a bit in the hopes of relieving the heat passing over him. The idea of Minerva McGonagall on hopped up hormone levels was nothing less than frightening to him.

...

Since it was summertime, Minerva didn't have to worry about sharing the infirmary and this embarrassing episode with any giggling, dragon-poxed teens. That also meant there was no one to rat on her should she manage to evade Poppy and make a run for it. Minerva eyed the infirmary's exit contemplating her chances of escape. Even if she made it to the doors, however, it was probably hopeless. She knew Severus and Filius were sitting in the hallway and would just drag her back in. She sighed and brought her eyes back to her interrogator.

"It is called a cycle for a reason, Minerva," Poppy lectured. "The hormones rise and fall and stop!"

"There is no reason to speak to me this way, Poppy," Minerva objected from her spot on the infirmary bed.

"Oh, no?" The Matron held up the list she had made while talking to Minerva. "You tell me you have been taking ALL of these things EVERY day for 3 months? You've completely short circuited your body in some vain attempt to turn back time. So, just what in the name of Merlin's unholy throbbing member AM I supposed to say to you?"

Minerva was rendered rather speechless by that out burst from her normally mild friend and decided a tactical retreat was in order. Lying down on the bed, she pulled her knees up and hugged them before saying simply and mournfully, "Oh, Poppy. I can't stand the idea of getting so old. And there's nothing you can do to fix that."

"Please, Minerva. I have quite the reputation with difficult cases," Poppy said pulling up a chair.

"Ha." It wasn't much of a response, Minerva knew. But it was the best she could do in her state.

"You feel old because you are married to the young thing out in the hallway, right? So, divorce him, marry Filius. Problem solved."

"Is it too much to ask that we confine this conversation to reality?" Minerva asked.

"My point is, stop comparing. Stop looking in the mirror. The second thing is: walk every day." Minerva looked more than vaguely unconvinced. "Don't roll your eyes at me," Poppy admonished. "You are feeling old because you feel wiped out. You were getting no exercise all those months he was recuperating. Perhaps I am old fashioned, but I am referring to exercise that is not conducted in bed. Walking will keep negative thoughts at bay. One more thing. Minerva, get a job. You never sat around moaning about yourself when you were here."

"Well, thank you, Poppy," she said sarcastically. "Let's see if I've got this straight. Ix-nay on the mirror, walkies and a job. Fine. I'll be going." And Minerva started to get up.

Poppy pushed her friend's shoulder back down onto the bed. "Did you even TRY to have a sex life with him without resorting to all of this?" Poppy asked gently. "Listen to me, Minerva. I know what I am talking about." The tone was unmistakable. It was the sound of a woman giving you the inside scoop, not a health practitioner telling you the text book answers. At this Minerva did have to widen her eyes and pay attention.

"Vanity and fear are the culprits here. The biggest problem would be right here." And Poppy rapped her friend gently in the forehead. "When was the best time for you sexually before Severus."

"Probably when I was about 40."

"Not how old you were, Minerva. You aren't going to believe me, but it's not about how old you are. Who were you with then?"

"Gavin."

Poppy smiled a comforting smile. "See? Gavin. And when were the times things were the roughest, that you worried about sex the most?"

"After I had Niall I was a little scared about sex. After I had a miscarriage. Then the first man after Gavin was pretty traumatic."

"And then you were worried before Severus," Poppy said and she took up Minerva's hand. "How many men had you been with post-menopause, Min?" Poppy said gently.

"None."

Poppy smiled knowingly. "Minerva, change is the source of the fears. And being past menopause is one more change. But the good news is that for you being with a man you love makes for the best sex." At this Minerva rolled on to her back to stare at the ceiling and think.

"A lot of postmenopausal women wonder what their sex life will be like," Poppy continued. "Some worry that they will lose their libido or that their partner will no longer be interested in them. But, Minerva, most postmenopausal witches say they have a better sex life than they did before menopause. Sixty-five percent," Poppy said while poking Minerva in the arm to drive home the point, "were happier with their sex lives. Postmenopausal women also seem to have an easier time reaching orgasm, _**and**_ more multiple orgasms."

"But that's not everyone," Minerva put in.

"Yes, Miss Negativity, a small percentage," Poppy said holding her finger and thumb a tad apart to demonstrate, " have a reduced sex drive and if you do _**then**_ there will be things a Healer can give you. And if you have a problem with dryness there are things to do which do not amount to attempting to poison yourself. Your age and menopause are not going to ruin your sex life, but the way you think of yourself could." Poppy squeezed her friend's arm and said quietly, "You worried about how things would be with Severus, and that's why you were taking all of those potions? You were hoping to fool your body into thinking it was 40?"

"Yes," Minerva said sheepishly.

"Was there a problem between you two? How has the sex been?"

"Good. Wonderful. Well, until this past week." And Minerva told her all of the details of the event that was not, the slinking away come morning, and the distance she had imposed on Severus.

"You cut him off?!" Poppy gasped.

"It's only been two days!" Minerva said defensively. "And I thought maybe I needed a break to let a little sexual tension build up...but also I was..."

"Afraid something was wrong," Poppy finished for her.

"Yes," Minerva admitted in a hushed voice.

"I will give you a revised list of what you can take. Then make sure you are well rested. And relaxed. And ..." Poppy trailed off meaningfully.

"You are prescribing sex?!" Minerva said with disbelief.

"You know I never get to do that working here. It makes a nice change," Poppy said with a lilt to her voice. "Oh, Minerva. I recommend putting Marvin Gaye or Al Greene on the gramophone," Poppy said in a knowing voice.

"Stop, please, Poppy. This is all getting a little surreal." Minerva sat up on the edge of the bed. "Poppy?" she called to her friend who was turning away. "Where did you get all those statistics? The 65 percent being happier and all."

"Well, it _**is**_ all supported by research, but to be honest, I read it in Witches Weekly."

"You know I have never read that magazine," Minerva said. "Did I tell you they were doing an article on me?"

Poppy walked the short distance to her office, reached inside and pulled out her copy of Witches Weekly. "The article on you is right here," she said smiling. "It just came this morning."

Poppy handed her the magazine, but Minerva told her, "I don't think I want to read it. At least not right now."

"Well, look in the back, that's where the ads are." Not understanding why she was meant to do this, Minerva flipped to the back of the magazine. "My personal recommendation is that one," Poppy said pointing to a box ad with dancing flames and the words, "The best personal products for the best sex: HOT SAUCE."

"Poppy?! 'Edible, but not for use on food, _**Wink, Wink**_?!' What a risqué little ad."

"There is a SWEET sauce, too. They call it a 'dipping sauce'," Poppy said in a low, deep voice.

At that last comment, Minerva felt an uncomfortable warmth spread across her chest and face. "My God," Minerva said pulling at her blouse to encourage some cooler air in. "You are right, I have got to get off these potions."

Poppy rubbed her shoulder affectionately and chuckled. "I'm going to pull your records and then we will do a full exam. It is certainly long over due. I can't even remember the last time you've had one." As Poppy walked for her office, Minerva slid off the bed and made for the infirmary doors.

When the doors sprang open, Filius leapt to his feet.

"Get behind me, man!" Filius yelled to Severus. Filius' wand was posed on his fingertips, rock steady. His eyes were drilling into Minerva's and he had taken up his dueling stance.

"Filius! Let me handle my own wife." Severus pleaded angrily.

"No! If someone has to hex her, it will be me. Consider it a wedding present. I can't let this fall to you. If you are forced to hex your wife, you'll be hearing about it for the next 50 years." Filius gave Severus a quick look that spoke of male suffering. "Believe me. I know."

Minerva froze in the doorway. Filius worried her, more precisely, Filius' wand worried her. She swore she could hear it hum gleefully with the expectation of getting to zap her. Bold talk was required. "I would like to go home now, Severus. Everything is fine." she announced.

"Don't believe her, Severus. I don't see Poppy. Minerva's probably tied her up," Filius said quickly, his wand trained on the former Headmistress.

"Oh, get out of my way, Filius and let me go home." Minerva took one step forward and found she could move no more. She had just barely seen the subtle flicking of Filius' wand, had only just seen his lips part in a quick incantation. And she was stuck.

"A sticking charm on my shoes? Oh, bravo, Filius. How incredibly juvenile..." She was trying to project her disdain, but was clearly embarrassed at having been caught like a First Year.

"But extremely effective," Filius gloated.

Poppy appeared behind her. "Minerva! Trust you to run for the doors when my back was turned," she said angrily. "I pulled your records and you have not had a full exam in five years! So, I will thank you to step back inside." Poppy was now brandishing her wand as well.

"I would," Minerva said motioning to her feet. "but, Fil..."

And she felt the sticking charm release.

And as she turned to address Poppy, she felt a faint pushing charm at her backside.

She was propelled forward two steps and as she gained her footing, she turned to glare at the men behind her.

"Five years, Minerva. You really are over due for this exam. You can't avoid it any longer," Poppy told her.

"There were other things I was concentrating on these past five years, Poppy!" Minerva protested. "Do you perhaps have any recollection of the past 5 years being a mite HECTIC?"

"Many of my recollections center on you being extremely DIFFICULT. But I have two guards at the door: a worried husband and a retired dueling champion. Something tells me that today we are going to get to do a FULL exam," Poppy said with a pleased smile.

Minerva groaned. And while she seemed (given her slightly deflated posture) to have accepted her fate, she still had not moved. Poppy came forward and took her by the sleeve. "Come along then," Poppy murmured and the infirmary doors closed behind them once more.

Minerva took up a seat on the infirmary bed. Poppy gently pushed her to lie back, and joked, "Just close your eyes and think of England and it will be over in no time."

"Just get on with it," Minerva muttered. "And I shan't be thinking of England." _But of revenge_, she thought.

As the wand passed over Minerva, Poppy suddenly stopped. "Minerva?" the Matron said in a shaky voice. "When exactly do you figure you went through menopause?"

* * *

**There. We all feel better about menopause now, don't we?**

**But...what will the exam reveal?!**

**Encouraging post-menopausal information from epigee dot org slash menopause slash lifeafter dot html**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and the continued subscriptions. They could not be more appreciated. :) **

**And thank you again to Selmak who made her wonderful insight on the characters available to me ****yet again. : ) **

* * *

_As the wand passed over Minerva, Poppy suddenly stopped. "Minerva?" the Matron said in a shaky voice. "When exactly do you figure you went through menopause?"_

"Exactly, Poppy? Well, I don't know. But I haven't had my period in almost a year. And that's menopause, right?" Minerva asked.

"Unless it's caused by something else, yes." Poppy said in measured tones.

"Something else, like..."

"Stress. As you said, Minerva, things have been hectic. And when you placed the Protection on Severus, it had to have been draining to you. That could of stopped your periods for months – although it's such an ancient spell no one knows what it could do to the person who casts it. But no periods you said. "

"Well, maybe some spotting...but not like a real period," Minerva equivocated.

Poppy groaned.

"Poppy, you are scaring me. Just tell me I'm _**not **_pregnant," Minerva demanded.

"Well, I don't know," Poppy announced in a frustrated tone.

"What do you MEAN you don't know!" Minerva gripped the bed sheets tightly and her knuckles quickly turned white.

"You ovulated just last week as best I can tell. So, it's too soon to tell."

Minerva groaned under her breath, "Chinese Menu Sex."

"What did you say?"

"How could this happen?" Minerva asked, sporting a red glow to her cheeks.

"I will assume you don't mean the obvious sperm and egg thing..." Poppy said, her voice dripping with more sarcasm than Minerva currently needed. "There have been 77 year old witches who have conceived without intervention. And you, darling, were giving yourself hormonal help. It's just too early to tell," she said with a comforting hand to Minerva's arm. "And it _**is **_unlikely. But you do need to prevent a pregnancy in the future if that is not what you want."

"Not what I want?! I wouldn't mind being a _**grandmother**_. That's what I wouldn't mind." Minerva hung her head and tried to let it all settle in, but there was no use. "Now what, Poppy?"

"Now, you decide what to do about those men sitting in the hallway. Do you want Severus in here? And what do I do with Filius?"

...

"She's... well, she's Minerva. So, I will thank you to NOT make it sound as if I have been pushing her to..." and the Potion Master's head twitched to the side in the realization that there was NO way to phrase thoughts on fulfilling his wife's biological urges.

"Don't you two have any... well, other hobbies?" Filius was saying slyly.

Poppy raised her eyebrows at these final snippets of the "man-versation" she was hearing. Severus' hand had given a quick involuntary twitch that Poppy figured was a manifestation of a subconscious wish to hex the older wizard. That would not do; she had enough on her hands without those sort of shenanigans.

"Alright, boys," she announced with a clap as she walked into the corridor. "You can come see the patient."

Severus moved to where Minerva was sitting, while Filius hung back.

"Severus, Minerva's in great shape," Poppy said. "I don't want you to worry about her health. But she does need to stop taking those illicit potions and she needs to consider birth control.

"There is a risk you could...?" Severus managed to say, turning his wide eyes to Minerva.

"We are not convinced my body is really done," Minerva cut in "So, it behooves us to be careful. My system may have only been on an extended hiatus. Certainly it would be considered my ovaries' last hoorah if something happened. We just need to know that."

"But you are not pregnant now?" It was a voice that said "reassure me."

"Probably not," she managed bleakly.

He raised his hand to his face and pinched his eyes closed. He said nothing, but as he finally dropped his hand, the look of fear had plainly changed to one of frustration mingled with disbelief.

She hated that there was something he was thinking, something he would not say out loud. "Just say it," she spat.

_Fine_, he thought. _She's asked for the truth_... And he let loose with, "HOW could you not know there was a risk?"

Minerva froze for a second, stunned that he could seemingly blame her. Everything stayed deathly quiet while Poppy and Filius waited for Minerva to act. She turned on her heel and walked out.

As the door swung closed behind Minerva, Poppy looked at Severus and said, merely, "Idiot!"

Severus looked confused and betrayed. Hadn't he been told by his wife just to say what he was thinking?

"It was most likely the Protection she placed on you! It was draining her of her strength and it probably is what stopped her periods. They were irregular before that, she was certainly approaching menopause. But when they stopped, that convinced her she was done."

Poppy walked up to Severus, her lips pressed thin. She stuck her finger in his chest and ground out, "How could YOU not know? How could you not notice the effect the Protection had on her? Are you going to tell me she showed no signs those first months of being tired, anything?"

Filius stepped from his place on the sidelines and quietly said to Severus' back, "You buggered that one, son." Severus turned and saw the old mage shaking his head sadly. "For God's sake, Severus. If a woman tells you 'Just say it,' she doesn't MEAN it."

He felt like a tennis ball as he now had to turn to receive another smashing from Poppy. "If she IS pregnant, who will shoulder the majority of that burden? How do you think she feels?"

"Poppy, off him," came Filius' calm tones. "You may not believe me, but Minerva is going to want him back. So, the best thing for us to do is help him, not run him to the ground."

The Matron ran her hands up her face and tried to cool down. "If," she breathed with less hostility, "the idea of Minerva having YOUR child was so reprehensible, do you think YOU could have done something to prevent a pregnancy?" She paused and looked at him imploringly, "But all of that is behind you. Right now," she enunciated carefully, "she needs support, not recriminations. She needs to know that you are going to stand with her."

And now Poppy turned away from him, not waiting for an answer and she stormed off to her office.

"Filius?" Severus managed to croak.

"You want advice?" came the answer.

"Please."

"Tell her you are an imbicile. Tell her you are sorry. Tell her she is welcomed to hex your balls off," Filius said with much too much seriousness for Severus' taste. "It's actually the only way to save them. If you offer, she is less likely to do it, as anything you suggest for the next two weeks is going to be met with suspicion." Filius came close enough to pat the dazed wizard's arm. "She'll be at the Quidditch shed – unless you are slow – in which case she'll already be flying."

"Damn," Severus muttered.

...

He had been too slow. His heart sank when he saw her racing in tight swoops as if the stadium's flags were an aerial slalom course.

After only ten minutes in the air she felt better, more relaxed. What had she expected from him, she asked herself. She had told him to say what he had been thinking – and he had. "Damn," she hissed into the wind.

She saw him there on the ground. His arms hung loose by his sides, his head was tilted back to watch her. He looked alone, hurt and alone, she realized from her perch above him.

She worried that any less than graceful landing (which she was prone to when she was this out of practice) would wound her pride further. She dipped the broom as she passed him and landed around the corner of the tall, wooden bleachers, out of his line of sight.

With slow and cautious steps, he walked to meet her. To busy herself as he approached, she pulled off the light gloves she had been wearing. Slowly, she raised her head to meet his eyes.

"Don't..." he started to say.

"Don't what?!" she said. And in frustration, she threw a glove at him. "Don't be mad at you?" She was surprised when he ignored the glove as it bounced off his chest.

"Please, Minerva," he said as he stepped closer, an air of contrition about him even in the way he approached her. "Don't do anything dangerous because you are mad at me. I'm an idiot. I know. But if anything happened to you..."

She softened even more at his words. In an even tone she told him, "What you said was hurtful, Severus."

"I know and I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I was just reacting to the idea of a child. Of _**me**_ being responsible for a child." He closed his eyes and sighed. "Being a father. It's not something I can do..." His vulnerability shocked her. As he opened his eyes, he shifted his gaze off to the distance. The voice was heavy and pained. "It's not that I would leave, Minerva. It's that I know I would stay and try, ... and still bugger it." She could see him bite down on the words and suddenly she understood.

This was the reality of being married to the damaged man that was Severus Snape. Of course, his past did not allow him to think that he could possibly raise a child. Her mother had warned her of the pitfalls involved with a man who had been so hurt, who knew more about violence than love. Minerva had only thought of how that would affect things between them. But now she saw this. His miserable childhood was a wound that never healed, one that he could not let loose even now. Most likely, she realized, he had told himself he would never repeat the sins of his parents, by ensuring he would never be a parent. Sorrow caused an unconscious groan to gently slip from her.

"This isn't your fault, Minerva," he said bringing his eyes back to meet hers.

"Of course it is," she told him softly. "I was just hoping you wouldn't feel the need to tell me it was my fault," she told him giving him a specter of an ironic smile.

"We both just assumed..."

"Yes, we assumed I was too damn old for this to happen," she said as she threw the other glove to the ground. "If it wasn't so tragic, it would be funny."

"Apparently, you aren't as old as you've thought," he whispered as he stepped a little closer. "Will you let me come home with you?" he asked as he dared to reach his hand toward her arm. "Poppy is ready to surgically remove my testicles, although Filius would probably put me up if you tell me 'no,' " he told her half seriously.

"Yes, you are coming home with me. I'm going to be as nervous as a cat on caffeine until we know, and I need you with me."

"I worry about you. I want to be with you. I want to help." he told her as he ghosted his hand up her arm.

She put a hand to his cheek and told him, "Thank you. I can understand that you hope I'm not pregnant. And I can handle you worrying about being a father. But, I don't know how I would ever handle it if you left."

...


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N Having fun this week dreaming up troubles for the older set from HP. And feeling deliciously naughty about it, too...**

**Thank you Selmak for all the help. Filius is especially grateful to you. **

* * *

They had Apparated back to the cottage yard from the Hogwarts gate. Minerva dropped her hands from Severus, but he did not let go of her. There seemed to be something on his mind, but she was not brave enough to suggest that he just out and tell her. Finally, he said, "Minerva, I want to apologize again."

"Really, Severus. There is no need," she told him as she started to pull away. His grasp on her never lessened, however, and she realized he needed to be heard.

"It was as if it wasn't me, Minerva," he said clearly troubled. "It was all of the things I have tried not to become." He dropped his chin to look at her intently. "It was something my father would have done – blame the other person... blame my mother."

Gently, she took his hand. Slowly, it relaxed in hers. Riding that success, she smiled, raised his hand to her lips and kissed each knuckle. "You are not your father," she told him. After a long pause, she arched her eyebrows and told him, "And I'm not my mother."

He coughed out a short laugh thinking about his mother-in-law in comparison to the woman who was expertly working his hands. She resumed kissing his knuckles in a more seductive manner, her eyebrows rising in a waggish manner.

"Minerva?" he said suspiciously.

"I haven't told you _**everything **_Poppy and I talked about," she said and she rolled his hand over to have her tongue graze his palm.

He groaned. "You are teasing me."

"No," she drawled. "Poppy said it was naughty of me to cut you off. So, I'm not teasing you. It's a promise of things to come."

With a quaver to his voice, he told her, "It's gotten late. Let's get dinner and..."

"I hate to recommend this, but I think I need to go up to the main house. Goodness knows if they have been looking for us. We missed dinner. We need to get the mail, and ..."

"Alright," he said clearing his throat. "Just so you know, that _**does**_ constitute teasing."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "See, women are able to do this prolonged..."

"Could we stop talking about this?" he asked, his voice a good deal higher than normal. "We'll go up to the main house. We'll do what you need to do and come back home." Severus set off walking the path to the clinic, obviously wanting to get the visit behind him. She caught him by the sleeve and slowed him down so they were walking side by side.

...

"There you two are! An owl came for you," Helen announced from her chair in the library. As the pair approached, Helen's gaze narrowed. "Are you two alright?"

"We'll be alright,Mother. It was just a long day. I'm sorry we missed dinner," Minerva said.

Helen's eyes told them she knew there was more to it. She sensed the seriousness of things and wondered what was the matter. "The parcel is on the table there," Helen said, her hands fluttered briefly with concern, catching Minerva's eye.

Minerva stopped on her way to the table, trailed her hand into her mother's worried grasp. "It really will be alright, Mother," she said lowly. And whether it was courage she gained from her mother or courage she merely needed to show her, she looked at her fully and smiled.

"You know he's a good man... completely bonded to you," Helen murmured.

"Yes," Minerva said as she squeezed her mother's hand.

"It's from Rhoda, Minerva," Severus called from his spot by the table. His eyes took in the two women and he said no more.

Minerva walked to her husband and took the proffered parcel. Opening it, she ignored the included magazine and read the enclosed letter."The final charges, Severus," she said in a tired voice. "The best we could have hope for, I suppose. They have dropped the desecrating charge and the fraud. And I do not know if this is welcomed news or not, but the Wizengamot has gone into its summer recess. So, we will not have to return to London for at least 4 weeks."

Helen asked for the magazine at about the same time Niall walked in.

"We went to visit friends on the spur of the moment, Niall," Minerva explained before he could frame his question. Minerva was almost relived when Helen distracted Niall from asking any questions by talking about the article.

"This is quite the flattering article, Minerva. I think they mention every award and accolade, short of publishing your final OWL scores. Luckily, there is no mention of any of your more impressive detentions or peccadillos..."

"Thank you, Mother," she said sarcastically. Helen's comments had managed to pique Niall and Severus' interest in the article, and Helen now had the two over her shoulders.

Helen continued to read out the more interesting aspects of the article. "There is an interview with George Weasley about Minerva buying presents for the orphans." Helen turned the page and chuckled making Minerva freeze.

"What is it?" Minerva asked as Severus groaned.

"Someone took pictures of us while we shopped," Severus explained. "Probably another of the Weasleys."

"This one here, Minerva, where you are surrounded by all the stuffed animals, is quite adorable. You look as if you've been big game hunting," her mother tittered as she passed the magazine on to Asha who had just walked in.

Severus and Helen both watched Minerva who was across the room, resting her hand on the mantle and distractedly staring into the fire. It was not just that she was uncomfortable with attention from the article, but that the day had brought her so much to think and worry about.

"There is a lot here about your devotion to the orphans at the clinic," Asha said.

"I'm sorry, Asha," Minerva said rousing herself from her introspection. "It's not right that they should mention the clinic and not give you two the credit you deserve for all the work you do."

"No, really, Mother. It's fine. We need more press on the orphan situation or we will never address it as a community."

Just a few minutes later, Minerva was deep in thought when Asha called out, "Aw, how sweet." Again the comment was accompanied by a groan. Asha had turned to the final page of the article, and was showing the room a candid shot of Minerva and Severus sequestered behind the stone chimney in the Leaky Cauldron. Minerva managed a half smile.

Severus could see that Minerva's thoughts were elsewhere. She was no longer paying any attention to what was being said about the article.

Asha's comment about the orphans had prompted Minerva to wonder about the wider problem. How big was it? Here she was being credited for showing concern for orphans and she realized she did not understand how widespread the problem was now in the Wizarding community.

With a changed look on her face, Minerva turned from the fireplace.

"The five orphans here, they are all wards of the Ministry, correct?" Minerva said sounding like a Headmistress again.

"Yes," Niall answered with a questioning look.

"How close are they to being able to be adopted, if families could be found?"

"Well, Zoe is not ready," Niall said.

"Zoe does not WANT to go," Helen interjected in a whispered voice, her eyes drifting shut.

"The others are stable," Niall continued. "Although, Amanda will not take well to change most likely and Jeremy doesn't talk, obviously," he said slowly with a pained voice. "Their conditions need continuing medications or in some instances, just patience. The process would have to be handled carefully, so that adoptive families were prepared to deal with the children."

"How many orphans are there at St. Mungo's, do you think, Niall?" Minerva asked.

"They have more orphans, but it is a lower percentage of their cases. They had planned to set up a separate facility. I don't know if they have done that yet for those who do not require hospital care," Niall told her.

"And Severus," Minerva said turning her attention to her husband, "has Filius mentioned anything about how many of the Hogwarts students are now orphans with no family. No place to stay? I didn't have a handle on those numbers before I left."

"No. But I know he has made Hogwarts available to students that need to stay, " he answered matter-of-factly. And then he took a deep breath he hoped would give him patience. "Minerva," Severus said. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," came her quick denial.

"Good, because I think you have enough on your plate," Severus warned.

Minerva turned to look at her mother, sure that she would also have something to say about the matter, but Helen had drifted off. Her head was now supported by the side of the chair and her hands hung limp in her lap.

"Niall," Minerva said and motioned to her mother. "Get her to bed, please," she whispered. And once Niall's attention was on his grandmother, Minerva asked Asha to talk with her. A sense of urgency was evident in Minerva's tone.

"Let's go to the kitchen and I'll make you up a plate of left overs to take home with you," Asha announced, sensing Minerva's need for secrecy. And the two women walked out together.

"What is it?" Asha asked with concern once they were in the kitchen. She could see the color rise in her mother-in-law's cheeks.

"I'm going to need you to keep a secret from Niall. I don't think I've ever asked you to do that. It's a medical issue."

"Of course. Please just tell me, Mum," Asha prompted gently with her hands on the older woman's arms.

"Apparently, I am still ovulating and we have not been ... careful."

"Don't be embarrassed, Minerva," Asha said like a understanding daughter. And then, "Are you pregnant?" came the clinician's question.

"I don't know yet. Poppy says I ovulated last week. That's where we were today. So, now we are a little panicked. In a few days, I will ask you to do a pregnancy scan."

"Alright," Asha said with a smile. "Poppy told you it's not likely, right?"

"Yes. But, I'm afraid any chance at all is not a cause for celebration as far as Severus is concerned," Minerva told her.

"Ah. That is a problem," Asha said in a low voice. "But I will tell you, Minerva, I have seen a lot of women go through this and the men have always come around. He loves you, and he is a good man. IF you really are pregnant, he WILL come around," she said gently.

"Still, I would rather our roles were reversed," Minerva said. Shyly, Asha avoided Minerva's gaze. "You seem so tired, Asha," Minerva continued. "I think the two of you are working too hard."

"Please do not worry about me, Mum," Asha said with a forced smile. "Let's just get you through this next week."

"I'm just going to stay busy and it will pass. I'll clean out that ridiculous old barn by the cottage or I'll help Severus set up his lab. I'll spend more time here with the children and the other patients. There is no shortage of things to keep me busy."

"That's certainly true," Asha admitted with a heavy sigh.

"See. You ARE worn out from all the work you are doing."

"I thought we agreed this next week was just going to be about you..." Asha said with a small smile. "Go home. Go to bed."

"Get some rest, Asha."

"I will. I promise. Oh," she said smiling. "there really is a plate of left overs for you in the refrigerator." And with that Asha headed for the swinging door.

As Minerva opened the refrigerator, she heard Asha's good-natured voice say, "She's in there. You'd best hurry if you want any of the chicken."

Severus and Minerva picked at the cold chicken dinner on the single plate. They ate silently, both of them tired, both of them with enough thoughts at hand to make inane conversation impossible. Wordlessly, he stood and taking her fork from her, he then put their things in the sink. "Let's walk home," Minerva said. "Poppy insists walking will stop me from feeling old." Severus made a doubting noise. "Well, one of her other suggestions was marrying Filius. But I think she was kidding."

"It's been a rather draining day," he replied as she took the kitchen towel he was using away from him. "I don't think I have any sense of humor left," he finished with a sigh.

"Home then."

...

They lay on their sides, her leg thrown over his. His lips teased hers, languidly. She meant to fulfill her promise. She was a Gryffindor, after all – a red blooded, sensual Gryffindor gifted with her share of libido. She traced her hand over his back, closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of his skin. Fatigue made the sensation seem oddly distant.

"You are falling asleep, Minerva," he told her as he settled his head on her arm.

"Mmmm. You are, too."

"Parts of me are rather awake," he mused.

She laughed slightly and meant to say something terribly funny and rather risque, but she dozed off in his arms, instead.

* * *

The next morning she woke and he was already gone. It wasn't just that he was not in bed. He was not even in the cottage. In looking for him, she had come down for breakfast still in her nightgown. In place of her husband, she found a note at his spot at the table.

...

_M-_

_Couldn't stay or I would have woken you._

_Gone up to my lab._

_-S_

...

_Mmmm, what a wonderful note_, she thought. An incredible economy of words, but through them he had made her feel desired ("or I would have woken you") and his mention of "MY" lab was so reassuring in its optimism for a future spent working here with her. Oh, yes, sure, she was reading into it. Still those words made for very fine breakfast companions and set her to smiling as she walked the path to the main house.

She would have to do something for him, she thought. And she lit upon her idea while walking. Once to the main house, she scribbled out a note for Filius and sent it on its way with a smile and the satisfied drumming of her fingertips on the desk.

That afternoon they found themselves standing together in the hall. Their heads pressed close together as they conferred. "I know that you want to keep busy this next week while..." his voice trailed off, the words 'we wait until we know if you are pregnant' not being something he wanted to say out loud. "But are you sure this is a good idea?" They both looked into the library, surveying the result of Minerva's note to Filius. The diminutive Ravenclaw was there talking excitedly with Niall, and Helen and Asha were sitting in the wing back chairs chatting amicably.

"You wanted to see if Filius could help with your research. He's going to be too busy to be of much help once the new term starts," Minerva pointed out. "So, let's just have a first go at this idea."

After Severus and Asha had explained what they hoped Filius would be able to do, Filius said, "If you give me something I can focus on, I can target it for you. But I have no way of focusing on nerves."

"So, where does that leave us?" Severus asked.

"If you can get me to have the touch for it, a mental touch is all," Filius explained with characteristic enthusiasm, "I can amplify that. I can make a pin glow pink and dance, but I have to be able to see the pin."

Severus asked, "Helen, can you perceive nerves?"

"I've only dealt with the brain, emotions, and memory," Helen said apologetically.

"But you can sense when someone is in pain?" Severus queried.

"Yes. I see your point." Helen agreed.

As the group discussed the best way to go about a trial, it was decided that pin pricks would stimulate nerves and that Helen might be able to gain a perception then. Asha suggested that Minerva was the most likely to be easily read by Helen given their relationship. Minerva grudgingly agreed. She settled into a chair with her mother sitting close at her left side. She extended her left hand to Asha, and Helen rested her finger tips on Minerva's forearm.

Asha began to prick Minerva's fingers.

"Anything?" Asha asked.

"It's the merest of perceptions. Keep trying," Helen suggested closing her eyes.

Asha began to stick Minerva's fingers more vigorously.

"Ow!" complained Minerva.

"Ssssh, child. Hush now. Easy," came Helen's voice as her hand softly patted Minerva's arm. The sounds and the touch hooked a memory and pulled it before Minerva's closed eyes. She saw her mother gently rocking Niall when he was a baby. There were the same soothing words as her mother sweetly rubbed the sleepy child's back. Then she saw her belly round under Gavin's touch -the same words and a laugh as Niall kicked inside her and his father jokingly sought to get him to relent. The images fired through her brain so quickly they barely registered, _until_ she saw the hand on her swollen belly was now Severus' and her age-worn hand was along side his. She audibly winced as she realized what she was seeing.

"Minerva," came Helen's voice. "Why would you think you were _**pregnant**_?"

Minerva's hand flew to cover her face as she dropped her head to her chest.

Niall gave a tittering little laugh befitting a nervous ballerina. He looked around the room and wondered why he was the only one who thought this was just an embarrassing misunderstanding. Surely his mother would just make a joke about the mistaken outburst and things would move on. Only that's not what happened. His mother looked decidedly horrified and no one else in the room seemed capable of movement.

Helen opened her eyes and looked around. Seeing the scene of destruction, she murmured, "I take it I said that out loud."

"I need a drink," Minerva announced and walked for the door.

Filius and Asha both called out, "Minerva!" in worried fashion.

"Water," Minerva said with exasperation, her hand on the door jamb. "Just water. Alright?"

"But, she _**couldn't**_ be..." Niall objected weakly.

"We'll know for sure in a few days," Severus said, not meeting the younger man's eyes.

"How..." Niall wondered with glassy eyes.

Asha came over to him and whispered none too quietly. "Do I need to break it to you that they are having sex? Snap out of it."

Niall groaned, looking like a quavering, frightened mountain of man-flesh.

"I have suggested they get other hobbies," Filius put in to lighten the mood.

Now, Severus groaned and walked for the door. Helen was forced to hold her lips in a firm line to prevent laughing as she tried to send Filius a reproving look.

"In fact," they heard Asha ground out from her place in front of Niall, "they are probably getting more than..."

"Mmm Mmmmm," Niall mumbled, shaking his head, his eyes pleading she not finish the sentence.

"than ME!" Asha hissed, her head close to his. She turned on her heel and headed for the doorway. Filius was fairly certain he heard her mumble something about the "world's largest, sexually-repressed altar boy" as she crossed the threshold.

Those remaining in the room were quiet for a socially uncomfortable amount of time. There was just the sound of Asha's retreating footfalls across the marble in the hall.

"I do think I'm very close to being able to see the nerve network. This really is very exciting," came Helen's happy voice.

Now it was Filius' turn to attempt a look of censure while wanting to laugh.

...

Minerva had gone for a walk. Filius had hunted down Severus and brought him to the patio to talk. Asha and Niall had returned to their duties, albeit separately. And Helen read in the now-much-quieter library.

"How are things between you two now, Severus?" Filius asked. The two men were standing side by side watching the dot that was Minerva walk into the fields past the house's stone wall.

Severus only shrugged.

Sensing Severus' reticence would only continue, Filius said, "Promise me you'll wait here?"

"If you wish," came the stiff reply.

Filius walked in through the French doors to the library and Severus saw him speaking with Helen quickly. For his part, Severus endeavored to remain out of the old woman's line of sight while he tried to figure out what Filius was up to.

When Filius returned only two minutes later he carried a tray with a decanter and two glasses. Severus moved quickly to relieve Filius of his burden and with a curious eye, he placed it on the patio table. Then, he watched as Filius mashed the pillows on the outdoor furniture in an attempt to get comfortable.

"I told your mother-in-law I was working to loosen your tongue so we could talk about how to please women." The small man's eyebrows danced delightedly at the word "women." "That's how I got her to tell me where the liquor was so quickly."

"What are we really going to talk about?" Severus asked.

"We are going to talk about how to please women," the Charms Master said with a knavish grin.

...


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I am back to the "out on a limb" variety of chapter. Talk me back gently. Please? Some of it is so far out I was too worried to even let Selmak read it. :)**

* * *

Severus eyed the man on the patio settee, handed him a whiskey, and took up his own place in a wrought iron chair. Then he waited to hear what Filius had in store for him.

This called for delicate work, Filius knew. He affected a relaxed appearance and watched Severus, letting him take in three sips of the whiskey before he started to talk.

After drinking from his own glass, Filius said, "There is this new entity you have created ..."

"We don't _**know **_that she is pregnant. In fact, ..." Severus objected.

"I didn't mean a baby, Severus, although that _**is**_ something to think about. I meant the marriage. Being together, it is a new thing you have created." Severus looked confused. "It is not just the old Severus plus the old Min and adding a little sex. Or in your case, _**a lot**_..."

"It's _**not**_ all sex, Filius," Severus insisted.

"Good," he said, seeing Severus start to warm to the idea of talking.

"Actually, she cut me off when she had a little trouble..." Severus said with a little roll of his hand.

"Oh, it happens," the older Wizard said almost dismissively.

"Which? Getting cut off or the trouble..." Severus asked with the same hand motion.

"Both," Filius laughed, "So, are you back together?"

"We haven't managed that," Severus answered in a low voice as he availed himself further of his whiskey.

Surprisingly, Severus told him (with scant details) that they had fallen asleep the night before and that that morning he had left to avoid waking Minerva, knowing she could use the extra sleep.

"I left her a note and came up to the house," he explained. "She told me it was sweet." The last word stuck in his throat slightly.

The Charms Master leaned forward in his enthusiasm. "Oh, Severus. You may be a natural at this."

"I highly doubt that," Severus replied with his usual pained expression. He sipped at his whiskey and then added, "She did seem very happy about it, though."

"Oh, Severus. My _**sweet**_ lad," he teased gently. "Even without my help you have found ways to show Minerva how much you value her. You see that really is the whole key. The non-sexual...it's an amazing secret. There would be more happy marriages..." Filius trailed off as he entertained a few fond memories. "Ah, I kept more than one wife happy, Severus," he said with a knowing smile.

"More than one? I didn't even know you had been married at all before. Has the whole of the Hogwarts staff led secret lives I haven't been privy to?"

"Perhaps..." Filius said with a wry smile before continuing his instruction. "Men are doomed to think about sex incredibly often. But the trick is to touch a woman in a way that is non-sexual and conveys how much you value her... not how much you want to bed her."

The wheels began to turn in Severus' head. He looked off to a spot behind Filius. Remembering, and with a thoughtful voice, he said, "When we were first a couple, she was worried about how Niall would perceive us. She worried that Niall would think she was an old fool whose feelings were not returned. And we consciously decided that at dinner there should be an obvious physical affection."

"Yes," Filius said excitedly. "Exactly! She wanted her son to _**see **_that you valued her."

"It felt a bit odd. Scripted."

"It is just that it was purposeful. Conscious. It doesn't need to feel forced or false. Just touch her when you are not actively trying to get her into bed. Squeeze her arm. Rub her back. Hold her hand. That's all it takes. I'm out of practice," the old wizard said. "But I could show you a thing or two if I got the opportunity again."

"When were you married, Filius?" the younger man asked gently.

"Ah, I met and married a wonderful witch named Bernadette in France. Amazing woman. Twelve years my senior. Courageous as hell. She died during the Great War. Then there was Cinka. She was Roma from the Tatra Mountains in Slovakia. She had been traveling, trying to get a magical education in Prague. I was there for a dueling exposition. She recognized me and approached me at a street festival. I fell for her. Any sane man would of," Filius explained. "We were so passionate for each other and we lasted as well as we could. But finally we divorced when she could stand to be away from her family no more." He sipped deeply from his glass, seeming wistful.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, boy. When I was married I was a happy, happy man for the most part. You know, I used to look up Cinka occasionally after the divorce. Go for a visit. She is woman enough for more than one man, but her new husband is not the type to share," Filius said with a knowing glance. "Even though you have me thinking about it, I do not think I will marry again. Still, even an old heart like mine could use some exercise. Perhaps there is an old witch out there who could stand to have me lavish some attention on her..."

Clearing his throat and changing the subject, Filius asked, "Have you thought that Helen might help you? Niall was telling me everything she was able to do for Zoe. If you are bothered by things ..."

"I'm coping well enough," Severus said quickly.

"It is a chance to do more than cope, Severus," the old Wizard said tenderly. "It is a chance to free yourself of things that haunt you, things that are holding you back. It is a chance to open up enough that you might not be bothered by the idea of being a sentimental husband ...or of having a child. It is a chance to do something not just for yourself, but for Minerva," he put in gently.

And when Filius said that last bit, Severus knew he would do it. He would talk to his mother-in-law about the memories that plagued him. He drained his glass and set it on the tray.

"Ah, there's your bride," Filius said cheerfully motioning off to the fields behind Severus. Quick to his feet, Severus turned to watch her walk in. _There is a good woman_, he thought unconsciously. One he endeavored to deserve. Strong. Beautiful. Passionate. She moved now with grace through the tall grass. He found he was walking toward her without having given it a thought.

At the edge of the patio, Severus looked behind him quickly. His ears had not lied to him. Filius had skittered for the library when his back was turned.

"You look a little ruffled, Severus," Minerva said as she approached. "Has Filius been giving you a hard time while I was walking?"

With Filius gone, but his words still in his head, Severus reached a hand forward to take up Minerva's.

"We just talked," he said in a voice close to a whisper as he traced his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Some talk, I can tell," she said smiling. Rising up on her toes she moved in to kiss his cheek, but it was then that she saw into the library through the French doors. She stopped, leaving Severus unkissed and confused.

"I don't believe it..." the witch said, her eyes wide.

He turned to see what she was looking at. Filius had decided to "exercise" his talents with women it seemed. Minerva pulled at her husband's hand as she walked toward the library.

The older couple did not even register that Severus and Minerva had entered the library. They were laughing at something Filius had said. Minerva could tell from the way Filius was standing that he was in the middle of one of his dueling stories. _The randy old show off_, she thought.

Just then a house elf popped in to announce that dinner was ready. Filus never took his eyes from Helen, Severus noticed, even when everyone else had turned to listen to the house elf. The moment Helen turned her head back from the elf, she was met by Filius' appreciative gaze and smile.

_The old dog, _Severus found himself thinking. _Damn, he is good._

Moving a half step closer to Helen, Filius offered his arm and asked to escort her to dinner. His words were all propriety and formality, but his manner was completely engaging and personal. Too personal for Minerva's tastes, Severus was sure.

The social smile on Helen's face changed to an intimate one. And with a small laugh she tucked her hand in between the Wizard's arm and body. Leaning in a bit, she whispered something that sounded like "dangerous old charmer" and Severus was fairly certain Filius had let loose with a growl in response.

Minerva was momentarily rooted to her spot. She watched as the couple exited the library without a word or glance back.

"Oh, that old FLIRT!" Minerva finally managed. "Isn't my life complicated enough without having to watch him... _**dally**_ with my mother?"

"Minerva," Severus said in a low, liquid tone. He looked down at his hand as if it was made of stone and willed himself to manage _**something **_of what Filius had suggested. With a self-conscious and less-than-fluid movement, he took up her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I would be very happy to escort you to dinner," and then channelling his inner Filius, he squeezed her hand and said, "Or _**anywhere**_ you would like me to take you." He kept his eyes locked on hers and hoped he was doing this correctly and that his efforts would not be rewarded with a laugh.

"Oh, those bedroom eyes, Severus," she told him with appreciation. "You know "anywhere" sounds lovely, but dinner more appropriate."

He quirked an ill-at-ease smile. _Now what?_ he thought.

"I love you," he said quietly, as he wound her hand around his elbow. "Let's go to dinner."

"Indeed, I'm afraid we need to keep our eyes on those two."

It was the five of them for dinner, as Asha had decided to eat upstairs with the children. Niall was quiet and an unhealthy shade of red throughout the meal. Filius and Helen were particularly animated. They traded humorous stories and laughed together for the duration of the meal.

After dessert, Filius stood and offered his hand to Helen. The old witch said she'd be along in her own time, though and stayed in her seat.

"Does she know you don't mean anything by it?" Severus whispered firmly to Flius as the two men stood at the far end of the table.

"Why do you assume that I mean nothing by it, boy?" he asked, and he sauntered away whistling briefly. "Cigars on the patio, gentlemen?" he then called over his shoulder. At the doorway, he paused, turned, bowed, and said, "Ladies, we await you at your discretion," and he was gone.

"Oh, go with him, Severus," Minerva huffed. "But be on your toes, next he'll be looking for a duel to impress _**someone**_."

With an internal groan, Severus followed the happy form of Filius Flitwick to the patio.

"And Niall," Minerva said gently, as she pulled on her son's collar to straighten it. "Go make up with Asha. I can't stand to see you sulk like this. I swear I don't know what's gotten into all the men tonight. No end of strange behavior," she said with a shake of her head. "Hands out of your pockets. Smile," she said giving his cheek a little smack. "Go be charming." He smiled for her and started to walk for the foyer. "And conciliatory," she called after him. "It never hurts."

...

The two couples sat on the patio, the pleasant smell of Filius' cigar still hung in the air. The newlyweds were in separate chairs while the Charms Master had taken up a spot on the arm of the over stuffed chair Helen occupied.

"Filius," Minerva said to the man drifting into her mother's personal space, "Would you like to have another go at perceiving the nerves? Or has your drinking ..."

"I'm not drunk," he shot back with a lusty grin. "I'm just enjoying myself, Minerva. I happen to be having an _**incredible**_ time, that's all," and with the word "incredible," he had turned his head to look directly at Helen and almost purred the word.

"Perhaps it would be best to forget it for now," Severus put in, looking faintly disturbed by Filius' behavior.

"Why, what's the worst that could happen? Someone could blurt out that I might be pregnant?" Minerva asked. "We've already done that."

"Oh, good for you, Girl. Let's try things again," Helen said enthusiastically with a clap of her hands. "Off you go, Filius," Helen said shooing the Wizard off the arm of her chair. She stood once he had moved himself and she patted him on the cheek. "Pace yourself, Boy," she murmured to him as she walked by him for the library.

"We could try what we did before or something a little different," Minerva said.

"What else? Filius has no affinity for perceiving the nerves mentally. No offense meant, Filius," Severus added in response to the "hrmpf" from the older mage.

"We could try the feed back loop we had in Edinburgh," Minerva suggested.

"And then what? We are still miles from getting Filius to perceive these things."

"I know. I know. Maybe something will occur to us. Let's just see if we can get any of us to get a firm perception," Minerva said.

...

They took up comfortable spots in the library, sitting across from each other. Severus felt rather self conscious about this as it had been a very intimate act in Edinburgh. Knowing this, Minerva gave his hands a squeeze and as her gaze seemed to fall into his.

"It's barely tangible. It's something which courses, pulses. That is how I knew it was there," Helen said from over her daughter's shoulder.

It was Filius' job to illicit a response from Severus with a pin to his finger tip. Severus then endeavored to mentally amplify this sensation so that he and Minerva working together might perceive something of the neural network.

Helen grew impatient and attached herself to Minerva, creating a connection.

The effect was untenable for Minerva. It created the impression of a cacophony in her brain. "For the love of God. Would you people get the hell out of my head," she hissed as she gripped her forehead.

"Language, Child," came Helen's tart response.

"What did you see?" Flitwick asked eagerly.

"Not much," Minerva said. "Unless the vague perception that a pack of Garden Gnomes had been set loose to eat my brain counts."

Filius felt it necessary to inform Minerva that the correct term was actually a "GAGGLE" of garden gnomes. This set Helen to laughing until she grabbed Filius about the shoulders and pronounced him both 'incorrigible' and 'delightful.'

"I think that is enough fun for tonight, Children," Filius said. "This old Wizard has a school to run, so I will thank you for a wonderful evening and I will be on my way." He kissed Helen's hand after he had finished speaking, prompting Minerva to roll her eyes.

"I'll see you out, Filius," came Minerva's steely voice. And she and Filius walked out the patio doors, her hand tugging on his sleeve, despite his protests that he had intended to Floo from the library.

Severus took this chance to speak with Helen. "If you have a moment, Helen?"

"Yes, Severus?" And looking at him closer, she said, "You could walk me to my room if you want to speak without being disturbed."

He nodded and extended his arm. She chuckled. "Oh, I am getting the treatment tonight. First Filius and then you. I will get quite spoiled. She patted his arm when she could sense that he was taking that comment the wrong way. "Severus, dear. Tell me what I can do for you," she said as they set off across the foyer.

"We talked before about what you did for Zoe. Blunting memories?"

"Yes, I sensed in you before a willingness for change. Is this about your own memories then?" she asked, although she knew the answer.

"Yes."

"It would not be as easy to do with old memories, Severus. Things which happened many years ago. For those events you most likely have memories of the memory, so to speak. The mind has revisited what happened and stored it many times over. But the original memory, the strongest one, that I would help you with first. Often that is enough.

"It is an old memory, yes. More than 30 years old," he said quietly.

They had reached the door to her room and she opened it and pointed him to a chair. She sat in one across from him and he finally took his seat once she was settled.

"You won't tell..." he started.

"Sssh, boy," he heard her say. And he realized her lips had not moved. Her fingertips worked over his jaw to his neck and finally she rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed in concentration.

He winced when the scene came into view. "I'm sorry," she said. And then, just as suddenly, "Better now?"

He nodded, surprised by the swiftness with which she worked.

"Then should I take it for good. Or leave it with you, blunted?"

"Take it. Take it all."

"Wise man. The dead should not linger to hurt us. " And Severus felt the picture of his father's hands on the boy he was slide away.

He was not sure how long he then sat there in the chair. His head ached and he felt a bit unsteady.

Severus was aware of a house elf popping in once and then again. This second time he raised his eyes to see there was tea and chocolate sitting between the two of them on a tray table.

"Have some, Severus. You were hanging on to that memory quite tightly. You should not have punished yourself so. You did not deserve any of it."

He only nodded and helped himself to the tea and the chocolate.

"And your fear, Severus. I will tell you what I told your wife," the old woman said quite seriously. "The two of you are working at odds. You both have your fears and you are both so proud that you try to battle your demons separately. You've seen some of hers now. You need to know she can help you with yours. That is what it means to be truly married. Share your pain, it will be halved. Just as joy shared is doubled."

The headache eased as he rubbed his brow.

There was a knock at the door and Minerva walked in.

"Ah, there you are, Severus. I had checked everywhere else except the laundry!"

"Your husband just wanted to make sure I didn't take that rascal Filius too seriously with all his flirting."

"I had a word with him as he was leaving," Minerva said.

"Ah, poor Filius," Helen quipped. "Were you very hard on him when he was just playing along with me?"

"This is not a side of you I am very comfortable with, Mother." Minerva said tiredly.

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't get to have this "side" now, does it?" Helen asked. "Off you go, you two," she said with a bit of brusqueness, suddenly showing how tired she felt.

"Good night, Mother."

* * *

Letting Helen into his brain had left him with twinges of pain behind his eyes. The attempts they had made at visualizing the nerves had left both Minerva and him exhausted. As he sank, thankfully into their mattress, he thought about the things Helen had told him. Memories like scars, she had told him. Memories of memories. A tangled web of hurt.

Helen warned him there was more than memories haunting him. Fear. There's no need to be afraid, she had told him before. So long ago. But she knew he was. And there was nothing she could do to assuage that.

This was the second night since Poppy had recommended they put Minerva's misgivings to rest and just have sex. And the longer they put it off, the odder it felt. He wanted it to be right. He wanted to do everything he could to please her. Closing his eyes, he pictured the times he had held her while the gramophone played. He thought of their first time in this bed. And he drifted asleep before she even lay down next to him.

A few hours later, Severus woke violently from a disturbing dream. With a start, Minerva opened her eyes to find him sitting up in bed. A strangled noise like a painful wheeze came from him with every breath. She eased him back down and he rolled away from her. With one arm under his shoulders and one thrown across his chest, Minerva held him as close as she could. Possessively, almost fiercely, he tugged at her arms to feel her even more tightly around him.

"What is it? Severus? Will you tell me?" she pleaded.

He growled trying to control his breathing. "Your mother. She knows what I fear. Pulled it from me. Moved it to the front of my mind, I think. And now, I'm dreaming it."

"Oh, my love," she murmured over and over as she gently rocked him. Once she felt him relax in her arms, she held him still. Then she pressed her palm over his heart. Her head was tight to his back and she worried he would feel her tears and know how undone she was seeing him like this. "Do you want to tell me?" she whispered.

He took a few breaths, finally exhaling in a groan. And then the simple words came across the dark.

"You were gone... I was alone."

They lay there a long time. His heartbeat was normal now under her soothing touch, but hers was racing.

She felt so self-indulgent that she had not tended to this fear she should have known he would have.

"Oh, my love, things are so unfair. If I could, I would tell you I'd always be here, right here with you. But, I'm an old woman. Death may have other plans. Just know that I will _**not**_ leave you willingly. I won't, Severus. If I haven't made you understand that, I am sorry. So very sorry," she told him vehemently. "You deserve that peace of mind. You deserve to feel loved, so loved that you would _**never**_ doubt how much I want to stay with you." She kissed him through her tears in between his shoulder blades. "I can't help but feel I've been so selfish."

She moved away from him then just enough to push him onto his back. Her hand on his face, she tried to smooth the trouble from his brow.

"I am not all you have, Severus.. You need to at least try to stop thinking that way. You are part of a family now. It's not just us. There is my mother, Niall and Asha. And hopefully we'll be grandparents some day soon." She smiled when Severus unconsciously shivered at the thought. "And Arthur, Poppy and Filius. There are good people out there who want to be a part of your life. It's alright to really return their friendship now. It's alright to let them in. And Zoe, Severus. She wants to be as much a part of your life as you will allow. ...It's not just me. You don't need to be alone again." After a long pause, she whispered, "If you want children, Severus..."

His head against her chest, he did not voice his answer. He just shook his head slowly, sadly at that suggestion. She held him a long while with her hand to his heart to reassure herself that the pounding in his chest had eased.

It was her disquiet now that would not relent.

Suddenly, she sat up and pulled off her nightgown in a swift motion.

"What are you doing?" came his pained voice.

"I'm telling death to sod off," the Gryffindor announced as if issuing a challenge. "I want you to feel me here, to feel me against you as close as I can be," she told him as she wrapped her arms around him and connected herself to him – skin to skin - along their lengths. "I want you to know I could never willingly leave you, Severus. Never," she said fiercely. "Believe me" she implored.

She kissed him. And kissed him again more fervently. She cried hot, angry tears into him as his hands wound themselves into her hair. "I wouldn't leave. I couldn't bear to leave you," she cried, pressing against his naked frame.

His body responded to her feverish kisses, responded to the insistent nudge of her hips against his.

"Minerva, you don't have to...

"Shh. Love. Shhh," she told him with a finger to his lips. "I want you, most decidedly. Let me. Let me push everything else away."

"Merlin, yes, Minerva," he breathed with relief.

The most exquisite sound escaped his throat as she stroked him and ground herself against him.

His eyes were closed. His face entranced with need he hadn't wanted to vocalize. Did he feel guilty about asking for what he wanted? Realizations sailed through her brain as she looked at him. In a moment of sadness and guilt for what he had endured, she trailed kisses and tears across his skin. Moving across him, she was unrestrained. Her own desire ratcheted higher. And higher still.

Wanting him completely, she took him in.

"Yes," he breathed.

The desperation she'd felt, the tension they had built, made for intense and exquisite lovemaking. It was so very like their first time and so different. Kissing his neck as she collapsed on him, she felt as if she was returned from some place imagined.

She closed her eyes and gently shook her head to loose the feeling of a dream ending. When she opened her eyes to look at him, she saw peace and felt her own nascent smile. It felt like waking up to her. His worries, his suffering. Their tears and her declarations. The passion and need. All of these were a castaway hallucination suddenly. There was the sensation of being in a new place; they were on the far side of the desperation now. Here was quiet, save for easing breaths and sighs. The faint hum of being truly alive. She truly had pushed everything else away.

They had reacted so viscerally, so physically, to the thought of separation. The fear in him was that boy who could not bear abandonment once more. He had held her to him and pleaded for assurance. And now she felt shipwrecked, exhausted, and emptied with all she had poured out.

But complete. Truly coupled.

She reached for him, and clumsily wound herself into his arms. She begged, "Don't let go."

"I know."

"Don't let go. And I won't either." And she closed her eyes unwilling to think or feel any more.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Gosh, I wish I knew if she was pregnant or not. It is killing me!** **Minerva is dealing with this very well and seems more concerned with her husband than worrying about whether she is... or isn't.**

* * *

There was a lot to think about, Minerva decided with her eyes on the horizon. And she needed some space.

She pushed through the gate, not certain, but fairly sure where she would end up. The grass she waded through was waist high and she flattened her palm to let the tops of the plants tickle across her hand. Her thoughts gained wings as she passed through the familiar fields. She saw the old rock wall that she remembered from her summers here as a girl. The irises had gone wild there making her slow her pace, making for an invitation, she thought. She stopped a while to sit a top the wall and think. The grass she had pulled teased at her mouth. Memories seemed to sift and sort themselves at their own bidding.

She took in the wall, the trees. And she found that her memories showed her that some things change and some things stay the same.

The stand of trees had grown taller and broader, still she recognized this place where she had lived out her make believe stories all those years ago. With a smile, she pushed off from the wall. She walked through the birches, letting her hand pass over the rough, contorted trunks.

_And what about me?_ she thought. _And him._

Was she doing right by Severus, she wondered? Were they getting by on luck? Was it just the novelty and enthusiasm that came with beginnings? She wanted to believe it was sustainable... but were they just running on the newness of love and sex, and the ability to fill the empty spaces each had?

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine a future. Could she see herself with Severus in five years or 10? Images tumbled and, thankfully, as she opened her eyes, she smiled.

In many ways they had rushed things, she acknowledged. At the same time, things felt over due, as if they should have known 10 years together already. She wanted the years back. Selfishly, unreasonable, fruitlessly, she wished they had those years to live again.

Foolish old thing, she chided herself. Wanting a different past would not help their future.

There were the fears she had withheld and they would survive these she saw. Together. And there were the fears he had hidden. Today those felt exposed and raw, it had been a painful night. But things didn't need to stay that way. Success would come.

Not of its own accord. It would be sought and earned. She didn't mind the effort.

She knew what was essential now. It had become insistent since it was revealed. It had brought her to this tree.

The coin flipped between her fingers. Her eyes on the wishing tree, she unconsciously rotated, spun and then rubbed the Sickle as she thought up her plan.

She strode to the silver birch that stood alone, the oldest one anyone around here had ever seen. And that is what her father told her so long ago.

It had been years since she had been here. One hand to the bark, she sighed. Two hands now on the tree, she leaned into the trunk until her forehead rested there, "Help me do right by him," she whispered. "I want him to be happy," she looked at the coin again. "Truly happy." She squeezed the coin one last time, trying to believe she could imbue it with her wish. Then she muttered the spell which allowed her to press it into trunk. Her hand brushed over the newest coin and touched the others in the trunk, and she recalled the hopes and desires that had brought her here before.

...

It was the following afternoon when she took Severus out to the stand of birches. He had resisted leaving the lab. Resisted even more when Minerva would not tell him WHY they needed to go for a walk. Then, finally, he bowed to the futile task of avoiding it. She handed him an old canvas pack to sling across his shoulder. "Lunch," she announced. And she turned for the door. With a sigh, he followed.

They cleared the rock wall and Minerva led the way to a strand of trees. She pulled the pack from Severus' shoulder to begin emptying it as he watched silently. Expectantly. But nothing exotic or disquieting came forth. There was just a blanket. A thermos of tea. Biscuits.

Neither of them sat. He turned his eye back to the large gnarled birch that was set alone. She had her eye on him.

"I used to walk out here when I was a growing up," she told him. "I was lonely being an only child and I would pretend there was a whole magical kingdom out here."

His gaze was fixed on the wondrous old tree, on the glinting metal that adorned it. "Minerva, that old birch... why are there all the coins in the bark?"

"It's a cloutie tree or wishing tree. Folks around here believe that it can grant wishes. Sometimes it is done with coins and other times, wishes are written on strips of cloth and tied to the branches," she explained as she walked to the tree. "My mother wanted none of these superstitions. Enough people thought she had the second-sight. Some feared her and some sought her out. She had no patience for the old beliefs. Passing a child's garments through smoke to protect it. Blaming the fairies when a cow had gone dry."

"And you?" he asked.

"I've driven a good many of these coins myself," she admitted, her eyes still on the tree.

His eyebrows raised in quiet surprise.

"And my father a fair many. But not Niall," she said, her jaw tensing a moment. "He stopped seeing hope in simple things after his father died." She traced her hand across the trunk a bit, resting it on a tarnished coin. "And the older coins would be from my father's mother."

"Do you believe that you will get help with your wishes?" he asked as neutrally as possible.

"I believe it it wise to know exactly what it is you are wishing for," she said. "To know your desires. To _**name**_ them. I think then they do have a better chance of coming true."

"You've been coming here on your walks," he surmised. "Tell me why you've brought me here, Minerva."

"Oh, I am glad I married such a smart man," she smiled. Picking up his hand, she walked him to the tree. She held his finger tips out to the bark and had him touch the coin she had driven in the day before.

"That one is for you," she said simply.

He looked at her with a sense of unease. "Why, Minerva? Is something wrong?"

"Stop thinking it is something YOU have done wrong," she interrupted gently. "That coin," she said picking up his hand again to hold it over the spot on the tree, "is my wish for you to be happy. I've realized THAT is what I need right now. What I need for things to work, for us to be content together for a _**long**_ time. And I want to start to work on something I think will help...I cannot just want you to be happy. I need to help. There are things I can do to show you that you deserve to be happy."

He had learned enough in the short time he had been married to try to hold his tongue. He knew he was out there for reason. There wasn't just more she wanted to say, there was likely an entire agenda.

"I haven't been fair to you. I've used you," she told him.

"No, Minerva. I won't listen to this," he protested.

"I've been a sad old woman who's used you," she insisted, "to prop up her vanity. It's not that I don't love you. I_** do**_. You've worked so hard to make me happy. And you have been so perfect about it, so willing and..." she trailed off sadly.

Oh, the confusion that flooded his brain. Was she unhappy that he had been 'perfect' about something?

"I have so enjoyed you seducing me. Pouring out your attentions on me. Making me feel beautiful," she said as he watched her fingers trace over the buttons on his shirt. "I felt so old, so undesirable, and I wallowed in it. And I am so damned selfish that I wanted you to seduce me over and over again, to make me feel wanted. But it's time I made you understand how desirable _**you**_ are."

She walked to the blanket, gently bringing him with her. And he followed as she sank onto it. Then he let her push him down onto his back. There was too much to take in. So, he let his mind go idle. He let his hands relax their tense grip on her hips. Taking on the role of the observer, he let himself be swayed by her words.

Much of this he had heard before. That a woman wanted him. Yes. Thought he was attractive? Yes. Desired him? Wanted to have sex with him? Sure. But, they were words he had never listened to. Before.

Before they had only ever come from whores. They were words befouled and profaned by Death Eater camp followers, sycophants.

Now? Watching her lips. Touching her skin. He felt her words; she made them tangible, sensory. Her words dripped with power. It was in the way she said them, the way she gripped his shirt as if she would hold him there, in the way her eyes poured over his face. He could almost absorb her words.

He could almost believe them.

Almost.

"I don't want to talk about the past," he said, finally resisting, feeling uncomfortable that the conversation focused on him.

"No," she told him and with a hand she stilled him. "We should talk about this. I don't think you have asked for something, told me what I could do for you, more than a few times..."

He closed his eyes and blew out his breath. And finally he spoke. "Do you remember," he said hesitantly, "when I was still recovering when I was such a bastard and then I told you to get in bed with me..."

"That was a strange night," she said settling down on the blanket to lie beside him. "It was one of the only times you have told me just what you wanted."

"No woman had ever told me she loved me," he admitted. "It didn't feel real. I didn't believe it. Nothing felt normal that night. I thought it was the recovery. The remembering. I had that memory of you placing the protective spell on me. And I had a feeling of... connection. And then you told me you loved me." He sighed and opened his eyes to the sky while he wondered what to say. "Those things: you loving me, the way remembering the spell had made me feel... I felt that if I let you leave the room, those things might stop being real."

There was nothing she could say. She caressed his face, shook her head.

"I need you to understand how completely I love you. I want you to believe in how real it all is. How wonderful you are," she said, smiling.

He flinched.

"Close your eyes," she continued rising up on one elbow next to him. "How are you going to understand how much I desire you, how worthy you are of being seduced and loved, how complete I am with you, unless you let me tell you? Let me show you? I want to give you a little... something to think about."

He was physically bristling from the embarrassment of such direct attention.

"Maybe this would be easier if we did a little role playing? Isn't there a way you will let me seduce you? To show you how wonderful it can feel? Surely you have a fantasy? One I could indulge. A wood nymph fantasy, perhaps, Severus?" He scowled at her, but she did not give up. She ran her hands over his chest as she moved in to straddle him, saying, "The tall, strong, masculine, potions master wanders the woods looking for the ingredients he needs, when a wood nymph in heat ensnares him..."

A smile twitched at his mouth. "A wood nymph ...in heat?"

"You are welcome to help me, after all this is supposed to be YOUR fantasy," she told him seductively.

"Tell me more," he trilled. And he had the audacity to cross his arms over his chest in professorial manner. She chuckled and unwound his arms. Raising his hands to her face, she then skimmed them over her body before resting them on her hips.

"Now close your eyes, Love," she told him in a low, husky voice. "This wood nymph has watched you. And she is so taken with you, that she follows you. Looking at you, she fantasizes about getting to touch you... of running her hands over your body." Minerva leaned into his ear and after breathing quite heavily she told him, "She knows she has to have you inside her."

He let out a small moan at the sudden, graphic words. He opened his eyes slowly and she admonished him, "No peeking, not yet," and she muttered a spell as she placed her hands over his eyes, and he found himself blindfolded.

"Suddenly, she Apparates to within an inch of you. She can't keep her hands off you. You want to keep to your goals, but she is touching you... shamelessly. Telling you how you make her feel. Telling you how beautiful and wonderful you are."

Despite himself he was beginning to give in to this idea of a fantasy. He arched his back to press against her.

"She is so needy," Minerva continued. "You can't bear to push her away. She is pleading with you."

He bit down on his groan, but she knew he was being swayed by her.

"Please?" her voice came. "I can't help wanting you. I've watched you. I need you. I love you. Please. I want you to be mine."

"Why me?"

She smiled sadly. Even after all these months together, that was the crux of it for him, wasn't it? Underneath the protestations that he was a self-assured wizard, there was this reality. _Why me? Why would you want __**me**__?_ She remembered his disbelief from when she had used the spell that would protect him. _"Why?" he had said then, "Why would you care about __**me**__?"_

"It's the strength I see in your hands," she said as she held his hands in hers. "I want to know what they would feel like on me. It's the power and confidence in your stride. It's the depth and intelligence to your eyes. It's the loyalty that guides your heart. Please." And suddenly the blindfold was gone. He blinked into the sun and there was Minerva, his Wood Nymph. The vision of her was framed by the canopy of trees and the bluest sky. She was naked save for the flowers she wore. Her hair hung loose over her breasts. "Can't I make you want me? Can't you take pity on me? It's so hard to want you like this. To hope I could deserve you."

"Just this once, Nymph," he said with a wicked, wicked smile as he rolled her over.

...

Later, they were dressed and lying on the blanket together. His eyes on the leaves that hung over head, he asked, "Do you want to tell me what this was all about?"

"I owe you so much. It is not that I feel a sense of obligation. But, you saved me," she tried to explain.

"No, Minerva," he said gently. "You know what I owe you..."

With a hand to his lips she stopped him. "If there is a life debt, it is shared."

He narrowed his gaze at her, trying to decipher her words.

"There would have been so little left for me," she explained. "So little left _**of **_me... just the grief and the bitterness. And instead I've been gifted this ..."

"Me? I'm your gift?" he said half-cynically.

"Yes," she said impishly. "You... loving me," she told him with a whimsical smile as she trailed a wildflower over his lips.

He blew the flower away and growled. He shifted her over onto her back and ran his hand down her side with tenderness before resting it cautiously on her belly. Looking at his hand rather than her face, he asked, "Is it too soon to ask Asha to do a pregnancy scan?"

"Today... or tomorrow should work," Minerva whispered.

"We should go ask her then," he said evenly.

"You are taking this so well, I know you would prefer..."

"It isn't about what I would prefer," he told her in a gentle voice. "Either you are or you aren't."

If he had been looking at her, he would have seen the quizzical look and a quirked eyebrow. "When did you get so Zen?"

He stood and offered his hand to pull her to her feet.

"Let's go see Asha," was his only reply.

"I love you," she told him.

...

Their meeting in the woods did not go unnoticed. Niall talked to Asha about it as they sat at a desk together, conferring on patients. "They went out into the woods for some sort of picnic lunch," he hissed. "They aren't back and it's been hours now!" he told her.

"If you can't imagine WHY they would do that, Niall, then YOU are the one in need of a little walk in the woods." And Asha shook her head sadly and pushed out her chair to leave.

He caught up with her in the kitchen.

"You aren't happy, Asha," he said, sadly stating the obvious. His eyes were intent and he studied her as if seeing her for the first time in a long time. "Do you wish we could be more like them? We used to be..."

"Things used to be easier," Asha said softly. "For a while, I didn't mind that our work here had gotten difficult. We were doing what needed to be done. But, I thought it would have gotten better by now. The patients, the cases we can't solve. The children. All this work. Seeing your mother so happy... it makes me realize..." she trailed off as she settled her gaze away from him.

Gingerly, he wrapped her up in his long arms. She sighed as she relaxed into his chest. These moments were too few and far between lately, she thought.

"I'm going to fix this, Asha. I'll get a relief healer in here. We'll take a day or two off. We'll get back to normal..."

She closed her eyes and let every other thought but him drift away from her.

"I love you," she told him.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Thank you, folks, for hanging in there with me. Minerva is truly touched by all the notes of concern she has received. **

**Me? I am just truly "touched." **

* * *

"I don't understand, you are sure I'm not pregnant," Minerva said with a true look of confusion on her face.

"Symptoms can be misleading. But probably nothing to worry about," came Asha's soothing voice.

Severus felt drained and remained standing using sheer will.

"You had hoped you were...?" he asked.

"No," Minerva said, answering Severus without even a look in his direction. "And it wasn't symptoms that made me think I was," she said to Asha. "It was a feeling... Something I saw." She was not someone who put too much stock in the less tangible aspects of life, and so this was difficult for her to admit.

There was no more maintaining his will. Too many years he had stood when he wanted to fall. He would damn well sit for this.

"Minerva? Will you explain, please?" he said as he lowered himself onto the hard wooden chair in the corner of the treatment room.

"I'm not disappointed that I'm not pregnant. I feel like a fool saying this. But I had seen things."

"Second sight..." Severus said weakly, remembering what Minerva had said out by the cloutie tree. He sensed he was about to learn still more about his wife.

She stood up feeling suddenly self-conscious. "I'm sorry. I'm just imagining things..." she told them, and anyone who knew Minerva McGonagall knew that was not likely to be the case.

"The fact remains that you may ovulate again. It is wise to take precautions IF a pregnancy is not what you want. If you want a contraceptive, I have already procured one," Asha said in a testing voice, gesturing to a stoppered, smoky-colored bottle on the table.

"Yes, of course," Minerva said reaching for it and deftly pocketing it, as if it were some sort of embarrassing contraband. "And thank you Asha. I think we should go, Severus. A nice quiet dinner would do us some good," Minerva said tracing her hand across her brow to catch the sweat there.

...

Minerva's eyes were wide, as they stood in front of the manor house. That beautiful mind was working with lightening quickness to solve this puzzle.

"It's not hysteria," she said in response to his look of concern. "And I don't think it's just some old woman's fantasy."

"You know I would not accuse you of such a thing," came his quiet reply.

"No. I know."

"But tell me, what IS going on?"

"I don't know what it is," she told him with a small shake of her head. "THAT is what bothers me. I am not gifted with second sight. I do not practice any sort of Divination."

He said nothing, waiting for that second shoe to drop.

"_**but **_I have occasionally gotten clear ... signals," she said. "And I had this picture in my mind. I saw our hands, here," she said covering her stomach. "I just felt as if there was a child on the way." She squeezed his arm. "Just tell me I am not losing my mind..." she said tensely.

"You are not losing your mind," he said taking up her hand for the walk to the cottage. "You'll sort out what you saw. But, if I find out that these 'clear signals' are how you managed to win Quidditch bets, Woman, I will be VERY disappointed," he teased gently.

...

The following day, Severus was in his lab pouring his preparations into beakers. He heard the door open behind him and judged the footfalls as he stoppered the containers.

"Does someone know you are here?" he asked without turning around.

"I told the professor," Zoe answered. "She's making the other children do schoolwork," she said, wrinkling her nose.

After he'd cleaned his work area, he made notes and occasionally rose to check his stocks. Zoe sat atop a high stool feeling very important and looking very serious. She was staring at the three beakers lined up in front of her on the wooden work bench. "You will tell me," came Severus' low voice "if the liquid in any of the beakers turns brick red?"

She nodded without even casting a glance at him, so unwilling to turn her head and miss the anticipated color change.

Severus should scold her or correct her for not answering him verbally, he thought, but he could not help but smile (slightly) at her devotion to her task.

"Feste," she said a minute later, in an urgent whisper as if her voice might disturb the contents of the beakers. "FESTE!" Two of the beakers were now the color he expected.

"Yes, perfect. Well done." He considered that another man might pat the child's head and he felt an inkling of understanding for that gesture, but did not move to do it. He wondered at himself that he had allowed a child not quite 5 years of age to watch over this potion, that he had even allowed her into the lab. _Change,_ he mused. _ Something has changed._ It was just one memory that Helen had excised. Could that really be responsible for this difference in feeling?

He had thought he would fear a change in himself. But it felt more like a cloud lifting than a cause for worry.

Lifting one of the beakers to the light, he swirled it slightly to ensure there was no lingering turgidity. "Perfect," he said again. And looked down at the brown-haired girl whose eyes were on him.

"What is it?" she asked with awe.

"An improved nerve tonic. We are going to do some experiments tonight."

Her already round eyes grew impossibly larger.

"Enough for now, Little Miss," he told her. "We should go upstairs and see who wants to hear about our triumph."

...

Filius was not likely to turn down an invitation to the house, Minerva knew. Sure enough, the gregarious headmaster arrived earlier than expected that afternoon. Once again Severus and Minerva stood outside the library conversing while the others were already gathered near the room's fireplace.

They would try once more to perceive the nerves and to somehow show them to Filius. Then he could work to develop a charm that would target the damaged nerves of the patients.

"When did you take the newest nerve potion?" Minerva asked her husband.

"30 minutes ago," Severus said and then a smile twitched quickly across his face.

"What is so funny?" his wife asked.

"I was thinking about Zoe. She is taking this very seriously. She wanted to be here to watch, to make sure the potion worked properly."

She considered him. Considered the change in him, this small, but welcomed shift in how he saw the world. Without another word, he touched his hand to the small of her back and motioned for her to proceed him into the room.

...

Minerva sat to begin. She was the lynch pin in this version of their experiment. Helen was to, _gently_ this time, join her mind with Minerva's. Then together they could mentally see Severus' neural network as it reacted to pin pricks.

"You see it, girl," Helen said once she knew she had conveyed the awareness of the nerves to Minerva. "Now what will you do?" There was a smile in the old woman's voice. Helen knew she was close. "I can read things, Min. But, _**you**_ can become them, change them," the voice encouraged her.

_It is a map,_ Minerva thought. _I will reproduce it_.

The skin on Severus' arm began to glow with faint red lines. A startled gasp came from Asha when she saw it. The image dimmed and then slowly returned. Flitwick held his breath and unconsciously stepped closer to the small group. As the nerve pattern again began to fade, Minerva let out a small groan. With determined concentration, Severus focused on what remained of the lines. He lifted his hand experimentally and flexed it, concentrating on the pattern in the hope that that would aid Minerva's work. Asha then knelt to prick his finger tips in turn. Niall looked nervously at his mother. "Do it again, Asha. She's trying to redraw it."

...

"We are a step closer," Minerva said, relieved to be done.

"A very large step closer, I should say," Asha announced.

"Champagne to celebrate?" Helen asked, her smile warm and broad.

"Wonderful," Fiilius said, with a twitching mustache. As he rose on his toes, she leaned into him, offering her cheek for him to kiss.

"Thank Goodness, I will have a McGonagall at Hogwarts come fall," Filius said with a quick touch of his hand to Helen's rosy cheek. "Although, Minerva," he said turning his head to meet her astonished look, "There is room for two. Do tell me you will come back and teach, even if it is only half your normal course load."

"My mother will be on staff next term?" Minerva said in a measured, unbelieving voice.

"Yes," Filius said. "I have three positions to fill and almost no time to do it in."

"Mother, what will you be teaching?"

"Oh, not all your classes. Just higher level Transfiguration classes," Helen answered.

Minerva was determined to not over react. She held herself perfectly still and clamped her mouth shut, but she could not keep the color from her face.

"What, Minerva?" Helen insisted. "Do you think I can't get a bunch of children to turn a cup into a rat?"

"Filius," Minerva said, "if this is some sort of plot to get me back to teach..."

"I would love to have both of the McGonagall girls teaching when the fall term starts, Minerva, but I know how unlikely that is. I'm just pleased I'll have the one. You're mother is being a wonderful sport about this. Sybil had offered to teach all of your classes," he said and his voice started to taper off as he saw the storm rise in Minerva's eyes. "But I think it is enough that she just take the lower level classes," he concluded quickly.

As an image of Sybil Trelawny set loose in _**her **_classroom formed in her head, Minerva squeezed the back of the chair nearest her and ground her teeth. Quite audibly.

A house elf arrived to a silent room with a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne. Minerva was the first one to approach the tray. She didn't feel much like celebrating any more, but she did feel like a drink.

* * *

That week Minerva continued her practice of bringing Severus out to the woods on the estate for lunch... and a fantasy. His ego was becoming more accustomed to the attention. He would never feel desirable, but it was possible he would learn to feel desired.

Severus walked into a clearing and there was the pond Minerva had told him to find. Her clothes were neatly hung on a tree and she was swimming in the center of the pond.

She waved to him and he waited, hoping she would get out. Finally, he gave in and he stripped down and swam out to her. They kissed there where the water was above their heads as best they could without drowning, until she laughed and began to swim to the shallows.

"You are not wearing your swimsuit," he said, his eyes on her bottom as it peaked through the greenish water.

"Water nymphs do not wear swimsuits, dearie," she told him with a cheeky smile as she lithely drew herself closer to him. "Do you have any water nymph fantasies?" she asked as her feet finally found the bottom and her arms found his shoulders.

"I think I might be developing one," he drawled and he trailed a single finger down from her neck to the top of one breast as if to connect the water drops. "I love you, Minerva," he said, surprising her a little with a tone so sincere it pushed away any idea of fantasy.

She smiled at him and kissed him. "Let's get out, love. I've brought a blanket for us."

The sun filtered through the trees marking their bodies with shadows and light. He watched the patterns play across her breasts and then leaned in, adding his shadow as he prepared to kiss her. After he had placed a few kisses on her breasts, he started to work down her stomach. She surprised him when she gently took his chin in hand to lift his head.

"Severus," she said sounding all too business-like for his tastes. "I've convinced Niall and Asha to get away for two weeks, rather than just a day or two. Those two have had no time off in a year, and they have let their case load become ridiculous. Will you help me with this?

"Yes, of course," he answered, not thinking what that help could possibly entail. He remained distracted by the feel of her skin under the pads of his fingers. Slowly, he drew small circles on her abdomen and he found himself entranced by the sensual simplicity of it.

She captured his hand, prompting him to look up at her again.

"We will need to stay over at the house. We'll pick up some of their duties. Niall is calling in two colleagues of his to come in and see to the patients. And I've asked Filius to suggest a capable student who would like to do an internship of sorts here. Someone interested in becoming a Healer. Or someone who would like to work with the children. Would it help if we found someone to help you in the lab?"

"No," he answered swiftly and brusquely, romantic ideas now firmly pushed from his head.

"Fine," she trilled, running a finger down his chest. "That can be my job."

And then her long fingers followed the line of rough hair down to rest on his velvety parts.

"What are you doing?" he asked, amused.

"Nothing," she told him with feigned innocence. "I just like to touch you. It all feels so nice," she said purring out that last word.

He let out a throaty breath in reply and settled onto his back. "Indeed," he told her. "It does."

* * *

They spent most of the following day apart. Minerva worked to better understand the daily schedule for the clinic by following Niall and Asha. Severus read in his lab and made lists of items to order.

He returned to the cottage first that afternoon, and took the chance to think. They would be up at the house for two weeks. There would be the children and the patients to consider. Despite help in the form of the two relief Healers and the intern from Hogwarts, Severus knew life would be very, very different for a fortnight. So, tonight was a chance to do something special, a chance to enjoy time alone.

In the sunroom, he was going through Minerva's record collection when she walked in. "I brought back a box of albums that were in my attic," he explained. "They belonged to my father. I was putting them with yours when I thought it would be nice to find that Van Morrison song. The one we danced to before."

"I'll find it," she offered quickly.

He continued to flip through things. "Here it is," he said scanning a cover's back for the song names. He flipped over the album and froze at what he saw. "Minerva?" he said with a strained voice. "What's written on here?"

"Nothing, really," she said trying to reach for the cover. "It's just a note from when I got the album."

He eyed her quickly and took a step back, preventing her from getting the album from him. Then, squinting hard at the album cover, he said, "This says, 'Love, Van' and then I can't make out the rest. Van Morrison wrote this?" he asked with disbelief.

But he did not push for an answer. Instead, he turned his focus to the cover photo, a picture of a long haired woman astride a horse being led by Van Morrison. His eye brow arched up.

"I know what you are thinking," Minerva quickly said.

"Well, that would be impressive, because I don't know what I am thinking." He looked at the cover again and back to her, "This looks like..."

"It's not," she cut in. "It does look like me. But it's not me. It's actually my cousin. We spent a summer together."

"You and your cousin?" he clarified slowly.

"Well, me, my cousin and Van," she said before stopping as a smile crossed her face. "And well, the band. And later, Joe Cocker," she said mischievously. "And, half of the Rolling Stones. "

"Yes," he said working to decipher the faded writing. "That would be what this says, 'It was a lovely summer' followed by a series of _**men's**_ names." At first it seemed he would drop the subject, but then he said, "So, now I understand how you came by your interest in music. Care to explain your fascination with Doctor Who?"

"No. Not at all," she said off-handedly.

"Did you perhaps spend a summer with Tom Baker?"

"No!"

"Jon Pertwee?"

"Severus, stop it," she said sounding suddenly flustered.

He was about to turn away when something about her demeanor changed. She looked _relieved_, he realized. Relieved that he was giving up! "Who was the fellow that played the Doctor before Pertwee?" he asked.

"Patrick Troughton," she said resignedly.

"You Gryffindors are really deplorable at hiding information," he teased. Did you perhaps spend a summer with a Mr. Patrick Troughton?!"

"Not really."

"No?"

"I saw him once, maybe twice." Minerva told him flatly.

"There's more. I can tell," he told her, searching her face.

"I was really more his son's friend, again through my cousin. Please, Severus you are making too much of this. Didn't you have any innocent friendships? Maybe someone who introduced you to music or Dr. Who or something like that?"

"Oddly enough, I relied on a radio and a television set for those things," he drawled sarcastically.

"You should not be letting this get to you," she scolded gently. "May I remind you that you are the one in my bed every night? Not that any of those other men was even vaguely interested in me."

"So, how do I know these were innocent friendships?"

"First, why do you care?" she asked him with exasperation. "These things happened a long time ago. I was single. You were probably a First Year! It really was innocent. They were always looking at me as if I was a bit strange. My cousin was the charismatic one. I was always acting surprised by something common place," she said in an embarrassed tone. "I was horrible at trying to fit in with Muggles."

"Good," he said with pleasure.

He picked up a book then and was about to sit down when she told him. "I think I smell something burning, Severus. Would you please check on things in the kitchen?" He did not reply. He did not even move. He just stared at her, suspicion written on his face. "Oh, do I have to do it? And here I thought you knew where the kitchen was after all your time here," she said sarcastically as she made to go to the kitchen.

"I'll do it," he told her with distrust. And he fixed her with a critical eye as he passed her.

"Take your time," she muttered to herself as she made for the pile of record albums that Severus had brought from his house.

When he got to the kitchen he found that the dinner rolls were burning, but that may have just been a lucky guess on her part. These house elves were ALWAYS burning the damn things. He rescued the rolls before they became charcoal and Vanished them. Worried house elves scurried to the far side of the table.

"Stop burning the rolls. And stop acting like you are afraid of me!" he grumbled. He thought he heard something coming from the sitting room. He poked his head out the door of the kitchen and strained his ears. Music. Minerva was up to something. The song stopped. Then started again. Then stopped. He pulled his head back into the kitchen and told the house elves to hold dinner.

"How's dinner?" she asked, the picture of innocence.

"I told them to hold it."

"Smart man. Was it the rolls?"

"Yes."

"Mad at me?" she wondered.

"No. Suspicious."

"Will you kiss me?"

"Yes. But It won't help. I plan on remaining suspicious."

"Oh, as well you should. Kissing is all a part of my plan for world domination," she told him as she pulled his head down to meet hers.

While she kissed him she motioned to the gramophone, starting the record.

"Minerva," he said breaking off the kiss. "When you do things like that, I can't help but feel I don't have your full attention."

He started to kiss her again and stopped as he recognized the music, "You've been into MY record collection."

"I couldn't help myself. I haven't heard this song in 15 years. And really, it seems to be perfect for me." Without waiting, she extinguished the lights and caused the curtains to close. She then summoned the needle back to the beginning of the record. The distinctly Motown sounds beat out of the gramophone.

As it started, he smiled and shook his head at her. "What 's this?"

"This Old Heart by the Isley Brothers," she told him happily.

"Tell me you never spent the summer with the Isley Brothers, please?" he droned with feigned exasperation.

"Well, first, they aren't even brothers..."

"Minerva!" he scolded with black eyes.

"Sorry, I swear I've never even met them," she said smiling.

"Mmmm. And the correct way to dance to this would be?"

"Very, very close," she whispered, placing her hand on his backside to pull him in before throwing her arms around his neck.

_This old heart of mine  
Been broke a thousand times  
Each time you break away  
think you're gonna stay_

He squeezed her bottom very hard and kissed her with equal ferocity. As if to retaliate, she pressed her hips into him while pushing her hand through his hair.

_ Lonely nights that come__  
Memories that flow__  
Bringing you back again  
Hurting me more and more_

She closed her eyes and sighed as he skillfully nibbled her neck.

_ Maybe it's my mistake..._

There was a heavy knock at the front door that startled the pair. He looked down at her with one eye brow cocked, "There are only three people that could be at our door right now."

A sudden look of realization sprung to Minerva's face . "Oh, damn," she said as she backed away from him and stopped the music. "I vaguely remember telling my mother she could come to dinner tonight." He looked at her crossly. "She was pushing for an invitation, Severus. What was I supposed to do?"

"REMEMBER?" he hissed.

"Get in the kitchen," she said over her shoulder as she left the room, "and help the house elves find something... some appetizers. Cheese and white wine? I'll get the door." There were four more heavy raps to the door by the time Minerva pulled it open to see her mother standing there with her walking stick raised.

Helen froze when faced with her daughter. Neither said anything, but Minerva knew there was no need. Her mother's eyes moved from her hair to the front of her dress. Was something out of place, she wondered or was her mother merely trying to unnerve her.

Her mother stepped in."The lights were out," Helen said with a twitch to her smile. "I thought maybe no one was home."

"I'm afraid we forgot you were coming," Minerva admitted.

Minerva helped her mother with her cloak, and as she hung it up, her mother said, "I can't remember having such a strong libido at your age." Minerva eyed the front door longingly desiring escape before she turned around to face her mother.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she tried.

"If you could see yourself, you would know that is a ridiculous thing to say," her mother chuckled.

"I thought it better than telling you that you were rude," Minerva countered.

"Oh, Minerva," Helen replied, more kindly, "I _**am**_ rude. You're right. Forgive me, will you? There's no fun at all to be had at the Villas. Up here it's a veritable feast of... goings ons. In my delight, I forget myself."

When they got to the sitting room , Severus was uncorking the Pinot Grigio. "Glasses, Severus?" Minerva hissed, glancing around. Straightening to his full height he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. "Never mind," Minerva told him. "I'll get them."

Once in the kitchen she pulled 3 wine glasses from a shelf. But she made no move for the door. Instead, she rubbed at her neck and blew out a breath, but that did nothing to relieve the irritation she felt. Retrieving one more glass from the cupboard, she held it over the stone floor and let it fall with a satisfying crash. She closed her eyes and smiled faintly and breathing more easily, she Vanished the mess she had made. Three confused house elves watched her turn for the door. "Dinner. For three. 25 minutes." she told them. "Please." And she left.

...

"I don't know when I have _**ever**_ been that embarrassed. And that is saying a lot," Minerva said, lying fully dressed and face down on the bed later that night. "She has got to think the only thing we do is have sex."

"It could have been worse," Severus pointed out.

She rolled over and fixed him with an evil stare. "How could it have possibly been worse?"

"She could have shown up 30 minutes later."

She held a pillow over her face and groaned into it. Lifting it, she said, "_Nothing_ ruins a perfectly wonderful sex life like your mother. I may be scarred for life. I'm sure I'm frigid now."

"We were only dancing..."

"In the dark!"

"with our clothes on..."

"_**You**_ didn't answer the door. She _**looked**_ at me, Severus," Minerva shuddered. "She _**knew**_," she whispered. "She told me she didn't have as much of a libido at my age."

"Is your mother completely clairvoyant?"

"No. It is the strength of the emotions, I think, that she picks up on and she is able to then very accurately infer things. So, if we had been say, playing cards right before she got here, there wouldn't have been much for her to go on other than my embarrassment that I had forgotten she was coming. Instead, I probably was transparently flustered, sexually frustrated, and a few other things when I answered the door. And even I could see that you had a lot more color than you normally do."

"I think it was fairly obvious that we were going to the kitchen ourselves rather than summoning the house elves, too. We were running in circles like a pair of Third Years caught in the wrong dorm," Severus said.

"Hmmm. I don't remember you ever getting caught in the wrong dormitory. Did you?"

"Of course not!"

"Maybe that can be our next fantasy."

* * *

A/N: The album cover in question!! It was the best picture I could find, sorry.

**tinyurl dot com slash 694eru**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Many thanks to Selmak for help with this chapter. No one knows Sev and Zoe like she does.  
**

**Thank you to my husband as well for handling the bedtime stories so I could make corrections!! Gee, I wonder where I get my story ideas from... hmmmmm.  
**

* * *

Based on the amount of pitiful sobbing, Severus anticipated there should be some serious wounds waiting for him in the library. There was no blood, but it was obvious that the children were not taking Asha and Niall's departure well. Severus was not sure WHY he needed to be present for this unnerving scene, but he struggled to perservere as he promised Minerva he would.

Niall and Asha kissed and hugged the children in turn from their spot in front of the fireplace. As this attention only made the children howl all the louder, Severus did not understand the purpose behind it.

"Minerva, I think this is too much for the children," Asha said worriedly.

"Oh, no," Minerva announced with resolve. "The children will be fine." It was hard to make this sound convincing as Mary and Annie, both six, were clinging to her, digging into her skirts and snuffling loudly. Jeremy stood hanging his head looking sullen. And Amanda was pulling at Helen, who was pulling at Zoe in an attempt to remove her from Niall.

"Severus, could you..." Minerva began.

And when she turned, she found him gone.

_Let him run now, his turn will come_, Minerva thought.

...

They would be sleeping in Niall and Asha's bed while the younger couple was away. The bed was incredibly and inexplicably large. Severus was not sure if this was owing to Niall's size or some sexual need he cared not to consider. Certainly the idea of sleeping in their bed was not helping any thoughts of he and Minerva having sex over the next two weeks. He heaved a pained sigh. After he stacked the last of his texts next to the bed, he followed the screams and laughter he was sure would lead him to his wife.

She was not an attractive sight as she sat on the bathroom's tiled floor. Her blouse was soaked through and her hair was pulled from its bun on the one side. From the way she pinched at her forehead, he could tell that a migraine was brewing.

She pushed up from her spot next to the tub until she stood, less tall and far less regally than normally. Conspiratorial snickering rose up from behind the door. As Severus peeled the door toward him, the laughter grew louder until Zoe and Mary leapt from their hiding place.

"Boo!" Mary yelled.

"Hi, Feste. We're NAKED!" Zoe proudly and unnecessarily announced.

They were not actually NAKED. They did have towels wrapped around their heads like turbans.

"Please tell me that you own pajamas," Severus said, looking at the ceiling. This only made them giggle louder and they ran from the bathroom to their room screaming and trailing water on the floor.

"Minerva?" he said as he closed them into the bathroom alone.

"What?!" she snipped unwilling to listen to ANY sort of criticism.

"Uh, I take it baths are done."

"I lost count. I think I supervised the bathing of 6 children."

"There should only be 5 here."

"Well, it was an _**estimate**_. Or I may have inadvertently bathed a house elf. I am not altogether sure at this point."

"So, this is parenting," he said with a painfully quirked eyebrow.

"Damned if I remember. I only had the one, and I swear I just wand-doused him out on the lawn when he needed washing."

"Lovely," Severus ground out. "So, pajamas, then lights out. Tell me we are almost done?"

"I hope so."

When Severus walked into his room there were three children: Zoe, Mary and Jeremy lined up on the bed. Jeremy had, it seemed, put on his pajamas without including the preferred step of drying off first and his pajamas clung to him oddly. The children all wore happy grins that looked not at all sleepy or intelligent. Mary pulled back the covers on HIS bed and squirmed under them.

"Story time," Zoe sang as she held up a book.

Severus stood next to the bed, frozen. Minerva stopped on her way by the door, Annie bashfully hid behind her.

"They want me to READ to them," Severus explained, wondering if this was actually a contractual obligation.

"Just do it. We are headed back to the bathroom."

His expression said "WHY" since all of the children (and then some, it seemed) had been bathed.

"Some things that should happen IN a bathroom, did not," Minerva explained.

"Good God," Severus whispered.

Severus took up the book he was offered. Looking at the title he was pleased to see it was the children's text book on owls that he had insisted Minerva buy when she was present shopping. He looked around for a chair to sit in, but the bed was so large as to make the including of any other furniture in the room impossible. Bringing his eyes back to the bed he saw that the children had scrunched over to make room for him, and that Zoe was enthusiastically patting the mattress beside her.

Stiffly, he sat down. And all of the space they had made for him was instantly sucked up. Zoe was proprietarily pressed up against him.

Severus had finished two pages of the book when Minerva, Amanda, and Annie walked in. All three crawled along the foot of the bed and curled up. Annie and Amanda with happy giggles. Minerva with an exhausted sigh.

Minerva let her eyes drift shut as she listened to Severus' divine voice describe the owls' fine plumage. She made a content little noise and pulled at the blankets nearest her as he turned the page and cleared his throat to begin the next section.

"When a **male** owl finds a mate," he began with a voice dripping with keen enthusiasm, "he fluffs his feathers, spreads his wings and bobs up and down on a branch." Minerva's eyes were open now, a questioning look on her sideways face.

"Severus?" she managed quietly.

"If his dance is ACCEPTED," Severus was now reading, "the female owl will..."

"Whoa!" came Minerva's quick interruption. She managed to reach a long arm up to remove the book from Severus and to snap it shut. He looked at her askance, his hands still framing a book that was no longer there.

"For the love of all that is holy, Severus," she whispered. She turned her eyes to the children gathered on the bed and saw that they were all watching now with rapt attention.

"They do _**what**_?" Zoe asked.

"_**If **_the male owl's dance is accepted. And **_if_** he is very, very lucky," Minerva said with a pained look at her husband, "the owls will take their time getting to know each other better."

Things improved after that. Minerva marched the children off to their rooms and two house elves bedded them all down before curling up to watch them through the night.

...

It was an odd, breathy little noise that woke Severus. With sleep-hindered movements, he shifted into the warmth of Minerva's back. "You are snoring, Min," he whispered as he traced his hand down her arm until it rested snug against her belly.

He realized it didn't seem to be Minerva making that noise at about the same time she said, "It's not me, Love."

He was fully and unhappily awake now. Rising up on his elbow, he looked over Minerva to see Zoe contently tucked under Minerva's chin.

"Why is she in here?" Severus asked.

"I don't know," Minerva mused. "She managed to climb into bed without waking either of us it seems. I have a feeling that sleeping in this bed is something of a habit with her."

"Lovely," he said sarcastically.

"Severus, there's more."

"What?"

"Not 'what' ... 'who' ... not that I can really tell **_who_** that is from here," she said, indicating a large lump at the foot of the bed that was, on closer inspection, two children.

"Are there not house elves on duty through the night?" he asked peevishly.

"Evidently, the children find you more cuddly," Minerva teased.

Severus' response was bitter grumbling.

"Oh, don't get mad, Severus. I'm only kidding. Blanney is infinitely more cuddly than you," she said quietly chuckling now. "I would bet the other two kids are in Blanney's bed."

"I can see," Severus said through gritted teeth "where Niall and Asha **_might_** be having some... issues." After he had extricated himself from the bed, he found his clothing and exited the room despite the early hour.

* * *

Late that morning Minerva had left a still-sulking Severus in his lab and gone outside to find her mother. The children were safely enjoying a snack under the supervision of two house elves, but she wanted to confer with Helen on the children's schedule for the rest of the day.

Minerva looked out to what they had come to call the Picnic Oak from the patio. _Since when has there been a hammock out there_, she wondered. Followed by, I_s that where she is? _She took two steps in that direction before murmurs of conversation turned to laughter across the distance, and the hammock began to rock dangerously.

With a faint feeling of anxiety, she returned to the patio. Minerva sank into a chair, and realized she was nothing short of a voyeur - and that didn't stop her. She watched as the Charms Master deftly rolled from the hammock to find his feet. With a chivalrous motion, he bent at the waist and kissed her mother.

The idea of fleeing did briefly occur to her. But she stood (or rather sat) her ground there on the patio as Filius walked toward her.

"Ah, there you are, my lovely!" he called out.

"Filius," she merely said in clipped fashion.

"I was hoping to chat with you before I left."

"New hammock?" she asked unnecessarily with a betraying tension in her voice.

Filius cast a glance over his shoulder and said, "That? Yes, I suppose. Your mother's idea. Not much of a hammock man myself," he said with a deferential hand to his chest. "I wanted to talk to you about Poppy, Minerva," he then said in a more serious tone.

Minerva indicated the chair across from her, and Filius sat down.

"Is something wrong with Poppy?"

"I think Poppy could use someone to talk to... I know you _**write**_ her. But maybe a visit would be in order."

"What is it?" Minerva asked, as guilt over the distance that had developed rose in her.

"She's back with Margie," Filius said in a low tone.

Margie was about 60 and a quiet woman who ran a bookstore in Hogsmeade. A good person, yes. But the wrong one for Poppy. Five years earlier when their relationship had gone bad, Minerva had been there to console the Matron. It had been a long, sad process and not one Minerva wanted to see repeated.

"Oh, I give up," Minerva said with a bit of pique. "Poppy SWORE she was through with her. It will never work," she declared.

"She _**knows**_ that, Minerva," Filius said with quiet exasperation. "That's _**why**_ she could use a friend to talk to."

"I'm sorry. I know I sound like I am in a horrid mood," her eyes rested on the hammock and her mother some 100 yards off. "It's just..."

He followed her gaze, "The hammock?"

"Yes, Filius. Didn't you know," she said sarcastically, a hand to her brow. "I have this morbid fear of HAMMOCKS."

"You know what I meant, dear. Me, your mother. ... and the hammock," Filius supplied.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Do you think you are the only one who would like to have a love life, Minerva? That no one else put things on hold for SO long that they never thought they'd get a glimpse of joy again?"

"No, but..."

"Poppy is looking in the wrong place for what she wants. We know. There are a lot of desperate people who want some happiness.

"Like you, old friend?" she said as a bit of an accusation. _Et tu, Brute?_

"Why not me?" came his heavy words.

"Because," she said sounding like a petulant child. "It's my mother that you are looking for... happiness with. I don't want to have to worry about you trying to get my mother into bed," she said with her arms crossed stiffly over her chest.

"Well, you don't _**need**_ to worry about that..."

"Good. Thank you. I'm..."

"Minerva!" he interrupted. "The point is, this is MY life... and hers," he said with a sweep of his arm toward Helen. "And you should NOT WORRY about the choices we make. No matter where they lead," he concluded with a distressing poignancy over the notion of "where."

Minerva was on her feet reflexively.

"Oh, sit down, Min. And DO grow up."

Remarkably, from there the conversation did get better. Minerva quickly realized that she _**had**_ turned her back on a great many things when she took up with Severus. And that one of those things was, unfairly, Poppy.

Minerva sighed and then said, "Could you tell my mother that now would be a very good time to do art with the children?"

"Ooo, I may stay for that. Arts and crafts," he said distractedly. "But where are you going?"

"To see a friend," she said with a sad smile.

...

The two women sat outside on a bench against the castle wall. They talked and gossiped with a leisurely familiarity. Minerva was delighted to have Poppy laughing again. And then after a long silence the Matron looked off toward the lake and said, "I'm back with Margie."

"I know. I heard."

"And you aren't angry?"

"Angry? No. Poppy, I just want you to be happy and I don't think she can make you happy."

Poppy shrugged. "It gets so lonely."

"I know. Over the years I've made some choices based on loneliness as well," Minerva admitted.

"And they just don't work out too well, do they?"

"Usually not," Minerva said with a gentle pat to Poppy's knee.

Poppy put an arm around Minerva and leaned into her, letting out a sad and exaggerated groan. Then she looked at her friend with a sudden smile and announced, "We should go out, Min. No husbands, no girlfriends and such. Get a group together for a night out. Tomorrow."

Minerva did not consider them ominous words at the time. And she felt so horrible about everything that had come before, that she would have agreed to almost anything. So it was that she found she had actually consented to a night out "with the girls" as a sort of belated bachelorette party.

* * *

"And you can handle this tonight, Mother?" Minerva asked in a worried tone.

"Yes, please, just go," the elder witch said with confidence.

"Asha left instructions on the evening routine for the children."

"Minerva. If I could be placed in charge of teams of Unspeakables in the fight against Grindewald, don't you think I can handle tonight?"

"Oh no," Minerva said holding up a finger. "This is different. You are not to use any full body binds, Legilimens, or verisserum... or mind cleansing.. This is not a war."

"The day I cannot handle a few children, Minerva... " Helen began with exasperation.

"Might be today!" Minerva told her. "There are five of them." Minerva looked at her pouting husband and considered there may actually be SIX children tonight. "When have you ever watched 5 children for the night?"

"I don't know!" Helen shot back with irritation. "But I probably have. Must I remember EVERY moment of my life?" Helen demanded. "A plan is the secret. Really. Some entertainment. Popcorn. A few games. Baths. And they will tumble into bed exhausted."

Severus shuddered at the mention of baths.

"And if that doesn't work?" was Minerva's doubting question.

"Sleeping draughts," came Severus' quiet words from behind his steepled fingers. "Appropriately dosed, of course," he said with a small nod.

The thought of returning to find comatose little bodies gave Minerva a nervous tremor. "I'm not going," she announced as she began to unwind her wrap with shaky hands.

"Don't be ridiculous, Minerva," Helen complained.

Rhoda and Poppy exchanged glances as they closed on Minvera. Taking up spots on either side of her, they finally grasped her by the elbows.

"What do you think you are doing? The two of you barely know each other and here you are in league against me," Minerva protested.

"Say good night to Severus, Minerva," Rhoda said with a slightly evil grin.

"We will not be returning you until very late," Poppy said in a tone Minerva took as entirely too patronizing.

Severus sat impassively while Minerva leaned in to kiss his cheek, she stopped short and said, "If you want me to stay, Severus..."

"We'll be fine. Please, go. But do keep your wits about you," he said, sending warning glances to the two women who flanked his wife.

There was a crack behind them and Rolanda Hooch appeared on the patio, her distinctive eyes narrowing at the scene. She thrust open the doors and announced, "Oh, Minerva. Just kiss the man. Tell him you'll be good and come along."

His wife was going out with HER?

He liked to think he could anticipate many more years with Minerva, but tonight he believed their future was less endangered by some unresolved lawsuit, than it was by her association with this retired Chaser. If Minerva ended up in jail, it would be because of tonight. Because of that pixie!

Her look alone was enough to worry Severus. Rolanda's hair was on edge as always, but it shone darker tonight. The feral, hawk-like eyes glowed with unconcealed mischief.

She had on the tight pants of supple leather she favored when reminiscing over her professional Quidditch days and her boots buckled with silver clasps to the knees. Filius Flitwick, the smartest mage Severus knew, usually ran in the other direction when he saw Rolanda wearing THOSE clothes. But, with a backwards glance, of course, to admire that splendid, firm bottom.

Severus had no doubt as he surveyed the swagger to those thin hips that some unsuspecting man... or woman or troll would find himself being ravished up against an alley wall tonight.

And that... scent? He surreptitiously drew in a breath to analyze. Instinctively, an eyebrow cocked higher as he got the full measure of it. His steepled hands moved to hide his face _**and**_ the fear he was ashamed to admit most likely lay there.

Yes, the woman who more often than not smelled of sweat and grass and mud was wearing something... _**citrusy**_. Good God. And at her earlobes hung jeweled triangles that spoke of some tribal promise of fertility and innocence.

Innocence?

"Ladies!" Hooch trilled, interrupting Severus' thoughts. "Trelawny's holding a table for us at the Dragon's Lair, and your cousin ..." she shot Severus a look and decided against continuing. "Well, you know your cousin, Minerva," she said with a wink. "So, we need to _**go**_. The show is about to start!" Rolanda shoo'd them from the library so they could Apparate from the patio, and let out an exuberant and worrying battle cry as they disappeared.

_Innocence?_ Severus again wondered.

There would be an innocent victim tonight and it would not be Rolanda Hooch, Severus was quite sure.

* * *

**A/N: The bedtime story is one I have recently rejected from our pile here. It is from Tiger with Wings, by Barbara Juster Esbensen. A great book, but really lousy bedtime material :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Consider this disclaimed. I own nothing.**

My thanks, yet again, to the talented Selmak and to the patient few who have hung with me and this story.

* * *

"This is embarrassing," Minerva complained as she was propelled through the club by Rolanda's firm hand to her back.

"Is not," Rolanda yelled over the raucous crowd. "You just think you need to say that so we believe you are a dignified, virtuous headmistress." And she put her finger and thumb in her mouth to produce a shrill whistle at the sight of the first enticing and barely-clad wizard.

There would be another 6 and a half hours of music, food, laughter, misdemeanors, and aberrancy before Minerva returned home.

...

The evening out had stretched on and Minerva was tired, and now flustered. The Floo had not been working, and so she had been forced to Apparate to the house's patio. She could see Severus through the glass partitions of the doors, and without knowing WHAT, it was evident that SOMETHING was amiss. Quietly, she pulled the door open, her eyes on her husband's bent form. He was seated in a high wing back chair. His forehead supported on his finger tips, he was a study in angles. Tilting her head a bit to appreciate him silently, she wondered briefly if he was awake at all when a more urgent thought occurred to her.

"Severus, I smell smoke."

Without raising his head from his hands, he told her flatly, "I find smoke removal charms are less than effective."

"And why is the Floo not working? Does this have something to do with the smoke?"

"Indirectly," he said before pausing to raise his soot-stained face. She pulled a barely concealed intake of air at the sight of him looking battle stained.

"The AURORS shut down the Floo," he told her.

"My God," Minerva said as she sank into the chair across from him. "The children...?"

"Essentially undamaged."

"And my mother?"

"Asleep," he spat.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" came her impatient question.

"Your mother had organized a game of Duck-Duck-Goose."

"In the library?" she asked, incredulous.

"No. the foyer," he said with waning patience.

"But the smoke..." Minerva began, using her long arm to indicate the room.

"Will you just let me tell it, woman?" he said in a tired voice.

She clamped her jaw shut and nodded, but she was aching to wring the details from him at double the speed they were coming.

"There were some hard feelings over the game. Some pushing."

"Aurors, Severus!" she interrupted. "Who the hell needs Aurors to settle a children's squabble over a game."

"There were 11 instances of under age magic. All wandless. One elemental conjuring.

"Fire," she said with realization.

He nodded. "No one was seriously injured. The rug in the foyer is unrecognizable, however. And the first team of Aurors arrived here quickly."

"FIRST team?" she asked, as she readily imagined a shoe hanging between them, preparing to drop.

"Your mother fought with them. And they called for back up," he said through clenched teeth.

Minerva blew out a steady breath and shut her eyes. "Just tell me everything is alright now and we can head to bed. Please?"

"There are three wet, blackened little bodies in our bed," he told her. Her eyes flashed in horror.

"They are fine, Minerva. Perhaps I should not have phrased it that way."

A high-pitched, little whimper escaped Minerva as she stood. "Alright then. I will clean them up and see about moving them," she said with a very heavy sigh. As if in a trance, she propelled herself slowly to the staircase.

"How was your night out?" he asked as he climbed the stairs behind her, taking up her plodding pace.

"Interesting. Eventful even. Although there were no Aurors involved. There likely SHOULD have been." She shook her head. "But, never mind."

An hour later they lay in the over-sized bed and tried not to think about the faint smell of smoke that hung even there.

"Your night out," he said across the near darkness. "You said Aurors could have been involved? I do hope you are joking. But knowing Rolanda...

"Yes. Although she was quite subdued by the evening's end. She met a man."

"NO!" he said with sarcasm.

"And did not snog him senseless, I tell you."

"She's slipping," Severus concluded.

"No. She's _**smitten**_." Minerva rolled over then to tell him, "We went out for sushi after the club got to be too much for our old bones. There was a man in there. Older gentleman, from the Continent, quite clearly. Two women, two middle-aged witches, were fawning over him and getting his autograph."

"Who was it?"

"Wait," she said peevishly, eager to tell the story her way. "Rolanda got one look at this man and stopped dead in her tracks. He is some retired Quidditch star evidently. The two women showed no sign of leaving or even letting the man breathe. Rolanda just stood and stared at him, and here's the best part... He shook himself loose from the two women and came over and introduced himself to Rolanda. He had seen her back in her playing days. Was a fan of _**hers**_, he said! Said she was the fastest thing he had ever seen."

"Oh, she's fast alright. Mark my words, she is tying him to her headboard with both speed and agility as we speak."

"Oh stop it, Severus, forget about Rolanda," Minerva said with a swat. "There's more. Later _**Rhoda**_ asked me to free up some funds for her to use towards my defense," Minerva said with an intense stare.

"What is she up to?"

"She won't tell me. She says it is better if I can deny any knowledge of what is going on should things not work. I know I should be horrified, worried, ...something. But I can tell she is on to something. And I trust her. Oh, and I think she is gay," she said as a strange little after thought, her voice sounding far away.

"So, this is a revelation to you?"

"She had really shown no preference before. Not that she played for both teams, so to speak, more like she sat out the game. I always just thought she was well, too busy to be bothered to play."

"So, Rolanda was well behaved, and it was _**Rhoda**_ who was caught snogging in the alley."

"No, just giggling. I came back from the loo to sit down at the table and she and Poppy immediately stopped giggling. Faces flushed like school girls caught gossiping, I tell you."

"Where was Trelawny?"

"Oh, she had "sensed discordance" and left. I think she was just trying to dodge her bar tab. And my cousin had left early, too."

"You are taking all this quite well. The children, the Aurors, your mother... are you tipsy?"

"Mmmm, a bit. And I guess I am done being amazed at what can go wrong at my age. No one is hurt. So, we'll sort it all out in the morning." Her eyes drifted shut and she rolled onto her back. Severus looked at her hand that lay across her stomach. His long fingers joined hers there, danced across her knuckles as he thought about her "vision," about her "clear signals," that had made her think she was pregnant.

"Have you decided what it meant, Minerva? When you say you saw our hands together, like this. What it signified?"

"Yes, love," she said dreamily. "I know now." She surprised him with this light mention of what had rattled her so completely a few days earlier. With wide eyes he watched her turn onto her side away from him. She hugged a pillow tight to her chest with a content little hum and then reached for his hand to pull his arm around her. "Sybil was quite helpful," she said with no hint of sarcasm. "Said she had clearly seen this juncture in my life. Told me the outcome was not a definite, just a possibility. And that it was not for me to know if it was to come to pass. So, I am not to worry about it."

"And that's what you believe, too?" he asked, astonished. But he got no answer.

She was asleep now and he was left to wonder what it meant. Minerva truly seemed to give credence to Trelawny's words, incredibly. He groaned knowing that sleep would likely elude him now. And when he closed his eyes, he saw their hands entwined across her belly, but he was damned if he knew what it was supposed to mean to them.

* * *

It was midmorning when Minerva moved from room to room, inspecting what damage may have been left from the previous night's incidents.

"Filius?" she said, surprised to see that man tucked in to her breakfast table. "You are here early."

"Mmm, perhaps," he said mischievously, "I just stayed late."

"I feel unwell." came Minerva's quiet reaction to Filius' suggestion. Her shoulders sagged and she looked tiredly at her husband.

"I **AM** sorry to hear that, Minerva," the petite lover chimed in between sips from his tea cup. "Because I feel ..."

Minerva's quick movement in his direction cut him off and made him splash his tea. Fire colored her cheeks. "You will not, Filius Flitwick. You WILL NOT make a joke about your well being that is actually a thinly veiled reference to sexual gratification."

"Of course not, Minerva," said a cowed Filtwick.

"You knew, Severus. And chose not to tell me?" Minerva accused.

Severus pinned Filius with a glare while addressing his wife. "I had thought he would have had the sense and propriety to not be here come morning. I decided that if it was only last night that we could ... overlook that.

"Overlook, Severus?" the charms professor shot back with a small smile. "Isn't it too early for short jokes?"

"I'm going to take my coffee on the patio," Minerva announced as she turned to leave the room.

"I'll join you," Severus said throwing Filius a sad look.

"What?" Filius protested.

"Filius," he said softly as he leaned across the table. "Too much."

"And here I was _**so**_ popular just a few hours ago," the small man mused.

...

As Minerva settled into her chair on the patio, she could see the children walking with two young adults toward the picnic tree. The teen aged girl led the line and the tall boy of about 17 brought up the rear. Faintly, she could hear bits of the song the group was singing.

"Severus?" Minerva asked, looking confused.

"Miss Hogan and Mr. Stockdale. The two interns from Hogwarts. They arrived with Filius last night," Severus explained.

"I hope they work out," Minerva said.

"I am sure we will find that they are the last thing we need. Must we indulge them while they play house and... make doe eyes at each other?"

"I will tell you that there are people who are made for this sort of thing. People who somehow thrive on the chaos of caring for young children. Not endure it, but thrive on it. It is no less a wonder to me as it is to you," she said to the questioning look on his face. "And I have the one child. God knows those two have the energy for it. And sadly, I don't.

"These children have been allowed to fall through the cracks," she continued. "This is madness. Orphans! And our society does nothing to end their suffering, just allows it to continue," she said turning her head to the horizon, trying to even out her temper. When she was more calm she turned around. His face held obvious concern for her state, but he remained silent.

"There are 29 more, Severus. They were cycled through St. Mungo's. Even the ones that were not ill or injured. I got an owl early this morning, finally, from the director there. There has been no concerted effort to place the children. Instead they have merely housed them in London. All of them together," she shook her head sadly. "Severus, we know what this sort of thing can breed. The children need to be placed with families. They need normalcy. Parents. Siblings."

"What are you thinking, Minerva?" he said with a warning in his tone.

"I just don't understand, Severus. Why haven't Asha and Niall set up a rotation of relief healers, snagged a new graduate from St. Mungo's or set about the business of finding prospective families..."

"Because they are not you, Minerva. They are Healers. Overworked ones at that. Not everyone is used to running an organization."

Her look had a far off quality. He could hear the over-achieving wheels turning in her head. Damned Gryffindors. Tilting at windmills. She'll expect him to ride a mule next.

"Minerva?" he called out to break her reverie.

"An open house would be an excellent idea, don't you think? Something like a fair or a picnic. Why not get potential benefactors as well as prospective adoptive parents up here? We'll have the orphans from London up as well."

With decisive movements he had seen many times over the years, she pushed back her chair and stood. Her jaw was in a firm, determined line and she strode for the house, oblivious to her husband.

Not one to agonize over details for an indeterminate amount of time, Minerva scheduled the open house picnic for that coming weekend. In truth, she would be glad to get it done before Asha and Niall could come back and object.

Was she heavy handed? Yes, she acknowledged to her self. But she got things done. She had enough of sitting on her heels with days that were only half full. This was just what she needed to keep her mind off the pending charges before the Wizengamot and the vague vision that Sybil Trelawny had related.

...

Come the day of the picnic there were striped tents and resplendent food. Colorful balloons and light music. The center's children and those from St. Mungo were scrubbed and nicely dressed. They waited inside as the guests began to arrive.

There were officials from St. Mungo's and the business world. There were reporters and columnists from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. There were prospective parents and well wishers. Molly and Arthur Weasley were there, as was Augusta Longbottom. It was not that Minerva expected that the latter was a prospective adoptive parent, but she knew the forceful Augusta would shame those who contended that fostering an orphan was beyond the scope of what they could manage.

The children were darling, as Minerva no doubt intended them to be. They flowed from the house rather than bursting as they might have if not under the firm woman's direction. They were appealing. Well coiffed. Smiling, charming nervous smiles.

And then Zoe emerged.

There was what Minerva would later characterize as a collective gasp. The girl was covered in boils and it did not take the wily former headmistress more than a split second's glance at the satisfied look to know that they were self inflicted.

It was just as the audible astonishment waned, that Severus' control failed him and a bark of a laugh escaped him. As eyes turned to him, his color was quite crimson causing people to note the similarity between his countenance and that of Arthur Weasley beside whom he stood.

"Small bites, I told him," Arthur said with an apprehensive smile as he thrust a handkerchief into Severus' hands. He then turned the man around to avoid the curious eyes. A further little noise which most would not have recognized as a laugh escaped Severus. "Oxygen deprivation," Arthur explained. "From the choking," he told those who persisted in staring. But really most eyes were content to rest on Zoe whose boils glowed blue in stark and stylish contrast to her shimmering yellow hair.

And most people would have been happy if that was where things had ended, unfortunately Zoe set fire to a bush after one woman pronounced her cute, but difficult.

...

The guests were gone and Severus and Minerva sat in a party tent amid the remains of a warm summer's afternoon. "You know why Zoe behaved as she did," Minerva cautiously said, arms folded across her chest in accusation.

"No," he denied.

"Don't play coy, Severus. She doesn't want to leave you. You need to tell her that she should do what's best for her," Minerva pleaded.

"And how would I do that? How would I know what's best for a child?" he countered.

"You are indulging her! Or you are indulging yourself!"

"I am not. Am I the only one the recognizes that the girl has a mind of her own and that she is remarkably adept at letting us all know what she wants? If she were ready to leave here, she would not be doing these things."

Minerva bristled with frustration. "Can we eliminate the things that aren't right? She should not live here indefinitely with no adult to call a parent. It is not enough that she has the distracted attention of the 4 of us and the volunteers when they come. She needs one person she can count on, Severus. Preferably two. She needs _**parents**_. She needs stability. She needs an education and discipline. Not a cheering squad for when she burns another bush in some biblical display of pique. Just because you like having her around does not mean that is the way things can stay."

"I never said I liked having her around."

"Severus, please," Minerva told him with exasperation. "You are allowed to like the girl. It doesn't make you a pedophile, for God's sake. I know you see something of yourself in her. She is hurt and dark like you," she added quickly, without thinking.

He locked eyes with her and told her firmly, "There is _**nothing**_ dark about her, Minerva." He was upset, she could see, and rightly so. She had trod very nicely into that one.

"I'm sorry. You are right," she whispered as she touched his arm. He was looking away now. "She has become important to you, Severus. You do not need to be honest with me, but if you could just be honest with yourself, I would really appreciate it."

And with a weary sigh, she stood to leave him. She walked across the grass to the house. There would be children to check on she knew. Children high as kites on ice cream and cakes, she thought with amusement. The house elves and the interns would likely be glad for her help with them.

...

As she got closer to the patio and the library, she caught sight of Zoe. The girl had been watching them from the library, her sad face pressed against the glass of the doors. Zoe's eyes slid to the floor as Minerva entered.

"Oh, come along girl," Minerva said gently. She took up the child's hand and walked her to the settee. "We are not mad at you," she said to the sad little face.

Minerva's words were what the girl needed and she climbed up to sit next to the old headmistress and wordlessly rested her head against the woman's arm.

"Zoe, don't you want to have a family?" Minerva said in a cautious voice. "Don't you want a mother and father?"

The girl's eyes turned to Severus who had just walked in. He understood, she knew. He could comprehend that that was exactly what she didn't want.

"No, Minerva. She doesn't want to be forced to replace them." Severus understood. He had some affinity for the girl, and for the parents. He had stood with her that night and witnessed the couple's forced drowning in Zoe's powerful memories.

And Minerva could see from the change in Zoe's face that Severus was right. That was how the girl saw the situation. She could not allow others to take her parents' place. The aversion was central to her. Still, she needed someone. Something.

"I need to think," he said, but he had already made a decision. He left the room abruptly through the doors to the foyer, and Minerva did not see him for hours.

* * *

Helen touched his jaw from her spot in the chair across from him. Just like the last time she had moved to take a memory, her hand then traveled to his shoulder.

"Open up. Severus, you need to show me. Let me in, Boy." He had been holding his breath it seemed. And with a gasp he lowered his defenses.

She'd been well trained; she had done this countless times on unfortunates and prisoners brought to her at the Ministry. But this was more than she anticipated. She saw the woman. Heard her screams. Helen added her other hand to Severus' crumbling form.

"Burbage..." he croaked. "Oh, God, forgive me." And his breath caught. She wrested the memory from him as quickly as she could and held him, pulled him in to rest his forehead against her shoulder. "Don't," he said weakly, but he was unable to physically resist.

"Why not, my boy?" came her soft words as soothing fingers plied his hair.

"Don't," he simply repeated as he dug his hands into his face.

"You've no mother other than me now, Severus," she whispered. "Let me, hmmm? Let an old woman feel useful. I know you are not apt to tell your wife what you are going through. And you need to just go through this now. Finish it now. Grieve this once and you will find it is gone."

He heaved a breath and tested at his mind. "The pain, the feeling of panic, are gone," he said as he raised his head from her shoulder.

She stood and walked behind him. Stood where he would not feel eyes on him. "Have you ever heard that expression, 'We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.' "

"No," he said.

She patted his shoulder. "I wish I knew what it means. It sounds so hopeful, doesn't it?"

He felt himself relax at the wry smile he heard in Helen's voice.

"Do you understand why that memory was so hard for you?" she softly asked. "Why it needed to go?"

"She trusted me. She needed me to help her and I failed her. It doesn't matter that I had no choice but to fail her."

"Yes. But there is more to it," Helen insisted. "You were a dangerous man, yes? You have lived a life of violence. But, in you, since you were young, has been a desire to _**protect**_. A desire that began with the first woman in your life.

"I think we are finished," he said, shifting as if to get to his feet.

"Severus. I am not mining for secrets," she said as her touch found the bones of his shoulder. "I am hoping to help you understand yours." And the hand she laid on him took on a heaviness that he would have been hard pressed to lift. She had turned magic to lead it seemed and pinned him there. Wordlessly. His shoulder sagged briefly under the perceived weight of it until he settled back into the chair again, unresisting.

"You have been a protector of women," she prompted quietly.

He gave a sad, derisive laugh. "Now, there, you are decidedly mistaken."

"Oh, you dismiss it. You feel you were not successful. But I know why that man beat you, pushed you...

"Enough," he growled weakly.

"...because you dared to stand between him and your mother," Helen finished with force.

"Will there be another nightmare waiting for me after this?" he asked in a challenging tone, hoping to change the subject.

"No," she said gently, despite his rising bitterness. "Because I sense it is dealt with now in your conscious mind."

"Why did it get more difficult over time to deal with this memory?"

"I believe," she said with faint amusement, "it is because now you are a married man. A man who is solitary no more. That made it harder still to think about a woman needing your help and being unable to provide it."

She patted his shoulder and continued, "You do not need to fear failure in marriage. Or in parenting, if that is your path," and she paused to smile at him. "Because you WILL fail. We all do. We are never the parents or spouses we want to be. You do not want to try because you do not want to fail."

He grunted in reluctant agreement.

"You worry that you will disappoint her," Helen prodded.

"You know I do," he said in a prickly tone.

"If you felt you deserved this new life, you would not feel that way. You could forgive yourself your failings, past, present and future. Sometimes don't you feel..." she prompted.

"Yes," he then started to say as a shared thought began to take form for him, "that being married... It's a second chance. It is as if..." he stopped, feeling foolish.

"There is redemption? And an undeserved reward has been granted," she finished where he would not.

He raised half a smile, "Not clairvoyant?" he said and held her gaze.

"Go," she told him. "Rest now. And know that happiness and all these good things _**are**_ deserved."

"Rest," he said as his eyes closed. It was as close to a prayer as he had come lately. "Rest," he said with a mind focused on the hallowed spaces between all things. He sent his wish for Charity's repose. And felt him forgive himself.

...

Side by side on the library's settee, Minerva and Severus sat without talking. Minerva had just reached up to remove her spectacles and pinch the bridge of her nose in a tired mannerism Severus recognized. He observed her with concern before turning his head at the motion that had pricked his peripheral vision.

The door to the library was being pushed open by a form that stood a bare inch above the height of the door knob. Dressed in yellow pyjamas, Zoe meekly walked toward them. "I'm sorry," she said quickly before Minerva could tell her she should be in bed.

"You know we want what is best for you," Minerva said and hearing the words she felt like the world's biggest fool. Would adults _**ever**_ come up with something better to say to children? Zoe stood directly in front of them now with her head hanging down; the ache in her was palpable.

"We love you, girl," Minerva took the leap to say. Damned if she had taken the time to really consider it, but it was what needed to be said. It was what Zoe had, Minerva suddenly realized, waited months to hear someone say. "We don't want to see you hurt. That's all."

And Zoe collapsed with a whimper across Severus' lap. His hands sprung up out of the way and his eyes were stuck contemplating the unnaturally orange ducklings on the child's top. Minerva's long fingered hand reflexively reached out to stroke the girl's hair and Severus' odd, uncomfortable posture slowly relaxed. With a sigh, he laid a nervous hand over Minerva's and shut his eyes tight.

_Damned if I am ready for this, Trelawny._

* * *

A/N: The quote on pain is from Kenji Miyazawa.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: A short sultry chapter as I did not want to mix business with pleasure.** And I did not want to let our heroes linger too long after that serious ending to the previous chapter. Really, we all need to lighten up. Unless you are under 18, in which case you need to read no further.

Normally I anguish over things before I post them. And perhaps I should have over this (you are free to let me know - cringe) but I am posting this without the usual drafts and revisions...

* * *

Minerva had woken up alone again. After breakfast, she decided to find him. They needed to address this disappearing spouse syndrome. A bit nervous, she walked the steps down to his lab. From her spot on the stairs, she saw he was at his desk, resting his forehead on his arm. Quietly coming closer, she could see his quill pooling ink on the papers in front of him. She had never seen him fall asleep like this, sprawled over his work. She smiled and thought about ways to wake him; then she wondered if she should do so at all.

The man was impossibly tired lately and so damn difficult to be with when he was like this. All touchy. Frustrated.

They hadn't had sex in days. They'd begun and been thwarted by the sounds of little feet once or twice. And she had woken with an idea in mind and a need to meet some nights only to find him gone.

With a groan, he began to stir stiffly. He lifted his head and his hair hung over his eyes a bit, making her grin. It was rare, rare indeed that he looked so vulnerable. Boyish. Sweet, even. She felt wondrously light inside as she formed a secret she would never tell a soul. Especially not him. _The man looks darling like this_, she thought, _all sleepy, lost, and tousled_.

And she felt a bit guilty for waking him.

"You haven't been sleeping well," she said gently.

"Oh, I sleep. Just not in that bed. And not at night," he grumbled.

"I know. There are a lot of distractions."

"There is a lot to think about, too," he admitted.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

"No," he said, rubbing at his face and pushing his hair back into place.

"Good," she said as she slid sideways between his knees, between him and the old wooden desk. She bent to grab the arms of his chair and she kissed him, gently at first and then with the intention of being VERY, VERY clear about things.

"It has been a while," she suggested.

_**It,**_ he thought, his brain and body starting to focus more.

"I was hoping," she said. "well..." she trailed off. "... because I did not really come here to talk."

She need explain no more. The message was received. Well received, one might say. He backed her up and helped her to sit on his desk, never taking his eyes off her as he pushed his papers firmly aside. And when he began to hike her skirt he saw only bare leg. _No stockings?_ he mused. And as his hand traveled further he found there were no knickers.

"Wicked woman," he hissed as his hands ghosted across her bare thighs and then between.

"I am sorry," she managed slyly.

"You are not sorry at all," he accused. She pulled at the waistband of his pants and he pulled back, just out of reach. "Don't," he said.

"Why?" she complained.

"You first," he told her huskily and then with nerve bending slowness his thumbs found her out and delicately parted her. "When it is my turn," he said as his attentions made her sigh and shut her eyes, "I am going to be horribly and embarrassingly quick." He growled out the last word making her moan in response.

He pushed her back further onto the desk and lowered his head to lick at her hip bones. And when his tongue finally found its mark, she called out in a complete loss of control that made him smile despite his task. He paused, shifted, bestowed his attentions to the left and the right. "Don't stop," she implored him. And he snickered slightly. Teased her with his thumb as he breathed against her thigh.

"Bastard, "she ground out.

"Yes," he said before finishing her in earnest.

Her screams were unrestrained. And his mouth was at her ear now as he whispered, "Have you no shame, woman?"

"None," she agreed. Her eyes still shut tight, she floated on the feeling that robbed her limbs of circulation.

She missed his quick actions to free himself and prepare to enter her. He paused only slightly as a warning or greeting as he hovered there, before pushing in. And then he began.

And he was everything she needed. More. And perfect.

"More," she agreed aloud with her thoughts.

"Perfect," she sighed as she kissed the spent man who rested across her.

* * *

**A/N: Well that was a fun way to start the day. **


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Selmak said it was okay... Blame her. The hour. Or the Glennfiditch. Severus' vast knowledge comes from wiki.  
**

**I am disclaimed. It's not mine. **

* * *

Augusta Longbottom was sitting in the clinic's library talking with Molly and Arthur Weasley. The round, old woman had taken on the role of coordinating the placement of orphans for the Ministry. She was pleased and proud to be the Ministry's first Deputy for Orphans' Affairs, and it was evident in the way she held court there. Minerva felt reduced to court cup-bearer at best. The tall, thin witch allowed her thoughts to drift on the subject, and she entertained the vision of her self instead as silkily-dressed courtesan to her potion master's brooding royal. She gave a quick, guilty shake of the head as the sound of the door opening put an end to her fantasy.

Severus walked in and looked a mite startled to see all those gathered there. His wife, he expected, but the blush to her face, he did not. Excusing himself, he bowed slightly and backed out. Minerva took that chance to follow him.

"I think Molly and Arthur have a lot to think about, Augusta," she called out as she walked for the exit. "Surely, this is not something to rush in to." Minerva looked back at Molly as she left. The middle age witch sat on the settee with Arthur, their hands together, their collective posture anxious. They were feeling the loss of Fred keenly, Minerva knew. They felt the loss of all their children, really, when they considered that their time raising those who survived was coming to an end.

They were such good hearted people. _**Too**_ good hearted perhaps for their own good. It was never Minerva's intent when she invited them to the orphan's picnic that they would feel compelled to adopt! She sighed and followed her husband, the swinging kitchen door marking his progress away from her.

"You were looking for me?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm free while I wait for a batch of calming draught to cure." There was more, a desire to talk, but his manner was schooled and non-committal.

"Well, we can't even sit on the patio," his wife complained. "_**Queen**_ Augusta has assembled her petitioners in the library and would see us. I just do not think I could handle one more conversation on her plans for fulfilling these new duties of hers. Hmm, but, we _**could**_ hide out in your basement laboratory," she said teasingly trailing her fingertips down his arm.

He flexed an eyebrow at her and begged off. "It does not smell that pleasant down there right now. Surely, we could just _talk_, woman?"

"It was mostly a jest," she told him with a slightly wounded note to her voice.

"Oh, come along," he said with a hand to her elbow. "We'll leave by the kitchen door and sit on the bench outside then...since you are _**hiding**_ from the formidable and regal Augusta Longbottom." The sarcasm dripped off his tongue like words of seduction.

The screen door shut heavily behind them. He eyed the bench and noticed that rather than sitting down, Minerva seemed distractedly drawn to the arching shrubs to the side.

It was a honeysuckle, Severus was fairly certain from the look of it, but he could not immediately place the exact species. As Minerva let go of the tension Augusta had brought her, she heaved her shoulders and let out a heavy breath. Severus watched her relax as she touched the plant, watched her mood improve.

"Lonicera tartarica," he said simply.

"Excuse me?" she replied before she bent to sniff the flowers.

"I am betting that honeysuckle belongs to the species _Lonicera tartarica. _Wood cuttings from _Lonicera tartarica_ are sold as cat toys in many countries because the wood contains nepetalactone - the active ingredient in catnip. Many breeds of cats react to the scent of the wood and will paw, lick or rub against it."

Feeling subconscious, Minerva stopped stroking the plant and would not turn to look at him.

"The physiological reaction to nepetalactone in cats has been studied extensively," he began in professorial manner. He then lightly pressed up behind her and continued in a whisper, "It has been found to induce a psycho-sexual response. One might say that catnip has an _**aphrodisiac**_ effect."

"Oh, that's patently absurd," she told him, shaking him off. But then she turned and took his lapels in hand. "Now," she said with an impish glint to her eye, "shut up and kiss me, as I am quite over come with a strange psycho-sexual need."

He complied, but breaking away from her playful kisses, he said, "I can see this is the wrong place to attempt a conversation with you. This is an unfortunate place for these bushes."

"My father is the one who put them here. Well, he planted the originals when I completed my animangus training. He thought the connection to catnip made for a humorous gesture," she said in a quiet voice, knowing that made for a strange admission. Her husband did not disappoint.

"I can appreciate his sense of humor," he said. He quirked a half smile as he pictured a young Minerva rolling her eyes, muttering an "Oh, Dad," but being very pleased with this present. Pleased enough with it and loving him so much that she would keep the bushes going all these years. "You and he got on well." Severus floated the statement out to her, heavy with meaning.

"Yes. He was wonderful. A wonderful father." That's what was on his mind, she knew. Fathers. Could he act as one? Would Zoe ever tell someone _**he**_ was wonderful?

They finally took their seats on the bench by the kitchen door, only to sit in silence. Minerva waited until she could wait no more. "You don't know what to do about Zoe," she tried - half question, half statement. His answer was a sigh and the dropping of his eyes to his boots.

"You've done enough out of a sense of guilt in your life. More than enough out of a sense of duty," his wife told him. "You need to think about this. Make a decision based on something else."

"On what?" he wondered.

"You have a _**choice**_," she said emphatically. The concept was nearly foreign to him, she knew. "You have to ask yourself if you have the capacity for this. If you can make a sacrifice willingly. Really, with love in your heart. Zoe doesn't want or deserve an unwilling ... guardian," she said avoiding the notion that Zoe was getting new parents.

"And you Minerva? Do _**you**_ want to do this? For some reason it is ME to whom she has formed this attachment."

"Well, I can completely understand that... Zoe and I have a lot in common. We both think the world of you, love."

"Minerva," he implored irritably.

"God, you are miserable over this, Severus." With surety she reached to pat his knee, "Let me tell you a story. I had Niall when I wasn't too much younger than you are now. And when he was a little older than Zoe, he decided he wanted to learn to ride a bike. And once he had, he decided his poor mum need to ride along with him." She picked up his hand and traced the half inch long raised line under her chin. "You've seen that scar, Severus?"

"Yes," he said, but his eyes narrowed in complete confusion.

She was smiling now. "I fell off my bike riding with him." She shook her head and was actually laughing. "I felt like an idiot, here I could fly a broom and I fall off a bike.. That boy jumped off his bike and threw himself on me, which probably hurt worse than the fall. He felt so sorry for his poor, uncoordinated mother."

"I don't understand the relevance here, Minerva."

"If you can picture yourself making a fool out of yourself for the girl, if you can picture almost... _**enjoying**_ complete embarrassment because you have the love of that child. You can do this. You SHOULD do this," she told him. "Parenting is completely unsavory. It is messy, undignified. No one gets out unscathed," she said in mock warning. "So, can you see yourself being the one lying there in the dirt, Severus? Hmm? Because of some stunt the child has dragged you into?"

"I do not usually choose to picture myself willingly sprawled and bleeding in a road... no, Minerva."

"Even if she doesn't have you on a bicycle on the track out there, she'll want broom rides and puppet shows, Severus. She'll want to stand on your boots to dance with you," she said with a smile picturing the sight in her mind. "She'll drag you out to the orchard to pick apples and fall out of a tree after you told her _**three times**_ to stay on the ground," she said with the world-weary voice of a seasoned mother.

"The girl will need comforting when she's upset. Nursing when she is sick. She is going to ask you, at least once, to brush and braid her hair. She'll try your patience more than any first year, ask more questions than Hermione Granger. But she'll be yours. And she'll love you. She already does. And if you love her, those things won't seem as frightening as they should. They might even sound _**enjoyable**_. That was my point."

He didn't reply. His eyes just shifted to the horizon and he blew out a breath.

"You asked what I thought about it?" she continued. "Well, as hard as I try to picture myself spending the rest of my life in a hedonistic blur of catnip-induced sex with you – I can't see it happening," His eyes did snap to hers at this last bit and she chuckled as she took his arm. "Yes, I want more," she laughed. "Whether it is work or... family. Even a larger family than the bit we have now."

"Truly?" he asked. And she nodded.

"You are a practical man, Severus. Come lie in the hammock with me and we can talk about the day to day matters. Hmm? How we would guarantee we still got time alone? How we would raise her? What would make things easier. Ah! Will she end up a Slytherin or a Gryffindor!?" she teased as she rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

There were 6 couples considering adoption and, miraculously or ridiculously, the Weasleys were among them. Couples would show up to spend time with the children and so, Minerva asked Severus to take Zoe for a similar outing.

It had seemed a wonderful day for a walk out to the old orchard. Until the rain had begun. Now, watching the rainstorm from the windows, Minerva was tense. Her toe impatiently tapped out the time they were out there in that downpour.

Had he decided to wait it out somewhere? What was wrong? She groaned with irritation and that was when she saw him. She opened the door to the patio and walked out without caring about the rain. She could focus on only one thing: he was carrying the girl. Things had not gone well. And only something strange and unsettling would have kept him from simply Apparating with the girl.

Severus did not slow as Minerva met them and attempted to assess Zoe. He plowed forward, his mouth grim. His eyes smoldering.

She followed them into the library and as he laid her on the settee, she secured the doors behind them.

"You two are wet through," Minerva began. And as she finally took a full look at Zoe, she saw that was hardly the biggest problem. Her hair. Her hair was... rigid and swollen to a mass twice its size.

"Does it hurt, Zoe?" Minerva asked as she knelt at the girl's side.

"No," she simply answered and she attempted to turn away to hide from their eyes, but the added burden of her rock-like hair made that impossible.

"Severus, please explain," Minerva said in the calmest voice she could muster.

"We desired to place an Impervious charm over us to avoid the effects of the weather.

"This desire does not seem to have played out well, Severus. Could you be a bit more forth coming?"

"I allowed the child..."

"You didn't!" she said with exasperation.

"Necessity provides inspiration... I thought the true need for the spell would improve the likelihood..."

"This is a spell many do not master until their third year at school," Minerva protested.

"I am aware of that," came his answer through clenched teeth.

"But you were confident that a child 2 months shy of 5 might manage it."

"She _**insisted**_ she wanted to try."

"Well, I can see who was in charge out there."

Minerva moved to comfort Zoe. Instinctively, her hand moved to brush the child's hair. Realizing how ineffective that would be, she took up the child's hand.

"Zoe, oh, my girl," she said with a smile, "You are going to be fine. We will get Professor Flitwick in here to right this little charm problem. And you know, you nearly managed it," she said with a conspiratorial grin. "But just because your dear Feste is completely besotted with you, does not mean you should misuse him so. No more borrowing wands. No more advanced spells."

Minerva stood, still smiling, and strode to the fireplace to grab some powder to dash into the flames. "Headmaster's Quarters!" she called.

* * *

He hovered over her now on this their last night in their borrowed bed. On his hands and knees above her, he seemed a four legged carnivore locking eyes with his prey. But his head dropped and his forehead rested against hers for a moment and then he made the smallest noise. A man of few words, and sometimes even those were gone. And she understood that noise. It resonated more with her gut than her brain.

"You're worried, love. I know," she whispered. "And you are torturing yourself over the fiasco with the hair. It's alright."

And he sighed, a pained sigh, and rubbed his cheek against hers, acting every inch the wounded animal. She raised a hand to pet at him. Her invisible look concerned. The brow furrowed. And he collapsed onto her with a whimper.

"Oh, my sweet man," she began. But finally she was forced to concede gently in his ear, "You are heavy, love."

He grunted, still in his pre-verbal stage, and inched lower, shifting his weight to one side and resting his head on her chest.

So much she had seen in this man over the years. But doubt, indecision? This was sadly new.

And his self-doubt was contagious. As he curved a hand around a breast, she wondered, _What would he want with these sad, old breasts?_ _Certainly, there were pert young sets about he could have had. But here he is_. And... _oh, God_, she thought, and perhaps moaned aloud as he turned his head and gently took a nipple in.

"Sex is not the answer," she told him gently, once she was able.

"Just thinking," he mumbled after he had released her nipple and begun to tease it with his nose.

She smiled finally. A smile of amusement. These breasts, she had thought them a bother when she first acquired them. Then they were delightful things in a lover's hands. Surprised and amazed, she had watched them sprout to the size of Quaffles after her son was born. For 2 years then they were only that boy's. His food and his comfort. And now, the worn, old things were a sounding board for this brave man's thoughts.

"It'll work," he said finally, sleepily. "Barely... If I'm lucky," and he snorted at that thought.

"It will work," she agreed, as she stroked his hair.

"It has to," he said. "We are half way down that road as it is."

"Right. Nothing left but the fall."


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: A tip of the fuzzy touque (that wards off the cold up here in La La Land) to Selmak for her profoundities. And many thanks for the continued comments and subscriptions.  
**

* * *

"Wake up, Min," her husband insisted.

"No. I'm frazzled. I had the most exhausting dreams." She rolled over, snatching covers to her chest with an undignified grunt. "I dreamt we were adopting chimpanzee twins and they would only wear polka dots. It was horrible. I hate polka dots. And there was food all over the floor and the walls."

"Get up," he said while prodding her calf. "It's our last day here at the house. Minerva, remember? Asha and Niall are due back today."

"I will remind you, we have not heard a word from them," came her sleepy voice. "Likely they are in Africa right now under assumed names. Inspecting coffee beans. Or counting zebra stripes in the Masai Mara. And, frankly, I don't blame them."

"Up," he merely said and attempted to pull off the blankets.

"I did bedtime," she complained from behind closed eyes. "I bathed them. I tucked them in," she yawned. "Feed the little dears, would you? Or at least supervise the process. Wake up those interns and put them to work. And then come get me. Oh, do the hair brushing? I hate all that screaming."

He sighed sadly. "Alright, 30 minutes."

He returned with a tray which held tea, the Daily Prophet, and a letter. True to her word, she sat up. Smiling through a yawn, she beckoned him closer, but rather than kissing him, she merely snagged the tea cup from the tray.

"The Prophet says the Wizengamot is back in session Monday. They are speculating that your hearing would start next week," he said gently.

"Have you read my letter, too?" she asked with amusement.

"No. But it's from Rhoda." He stood up from the bed, walked to the window and pushed the curtains back. "It looks like a good day. No rain." And then after a deep breath he told her, "I'm worried. I want this over. I cannot even fathom how they can prosecute you for this. Public opinion is with you. But _**someone**_ is holding a grudge. It is someone high up enough that this is being allowed to continue."

"Could there be a connection between Cadmus Cardea or his widow and Under Secretary Wilkes?" she asked him. "Or Cullen?"

"All idiots. Other than that, I don't know."

She pulled herself out of bed. "Distinctly unhelpful, dear," she said with a smile and she moved closer to pat him on the shoulder. She sat down on the white painted window seat. Her back to the glass, she held the letter up to the light and gradually stretched her arms out. "Can't read the blasted thing. She writes too small."

Severus wordlessly turned, walked to the bedside table and returned with her spectacles. "Usually you blame it on your arms being too short," he whispered as he leaned over her. He placed the glasses in her hands as he bestowed a kiss to her temple.

She considered the situation with a sigh. "What a tired, boring, old married couple we've become."

"Boring. Yes. Nothing in our immediate future but a trial that threatens to leave you an inmate, and the addition of a 4 year old pyromaniac to our sedate little household."

"Well, at least I've heard Azkaban is a _**much**_ nicer place to be lately," she added sarcastically. "But crowded. You don't think they are sharing cells?" She feigned a shudder and asked him, "Would they put me in with the dreaded Delores Umbridge? A week of that would be more punishment than I could stand."

He chose to ignore her comments, unwilling to joke about the prospect of losing her. Instead he stretched out his hand toward the letter from Rhoda - that she STILL had not read despite his having retrieved her glasses. "May I?" he asked more patiently than he felt.

"Go ahead. Just read it out loud for me?"

"There is a paragraph of pleasantries," he told her as if he found such a thing distasteful. She smiled at his prickly manner. "And," he said fixing her with an amused eye, "she thanks you for giving her the chance to get to know Poppy better."

"Ah Ha!" Minerva near shouted and reached for the letter.

"Business first," he growled holding the letter out of her reach. "She believes you will be called before the Committee for Magical Justice on Thursday. She has assembled a list of persons to testify on your behalf in the hopes of showing support for you and lessening any sentence.

"She also concurs that it is only Under Secretary Wilkes and Chauncey Cullen who seem intent on prosecuting. The rest of the committee is just being dragged along for the ride. The weak minded, spineless bastards."

"I take it," Minerva said with a faint smile, "that that last bit is your aside rather than Rhoda's?"

"Yes," he grumbled with guilty eyes. "The letter ends with 'My assistants and I are watching them, looking for anything that would give us an advantage. If we can find an untoward motive behind this prosecution, we can get the case thrown out which would be even better than hoping for a lenient sentence.'" Severus dropped the letter and raised his eyes to Minerva's. "Assistants?" he asked. "She has a staff?"

"No," she said before tightening her grimace and shaking her head. "I'm afraid this means she has gotten innocents involved. Most likely some friends of mine or former students. Order members? I don't know. I just hope this doesn't end in MORE charges against more people."

...

The letter done, she pulled on her clothes in silence. He sat by the window, occasionally watching her, sometimes obviously in thought with his gaze toward the lawn. It would not do to share their worries, they both seemed to wordlessly agree.

Dressed now, she headed for the door. He stopped her with light fingers on her arm. "Before you go downstairs, I should warn you that Filius is here... actually he never left after you called him here to help yesterday."

She sighed wearily. Her hand stuck on the doorknob.

"Minerva," he said softly. "What is it that bothers you so much about this situation with Filius and your mother?"

"I don't know."

"He acts the besotted old fool, Minerva, but he really does care for your mother. It is not a passing thing for him. You could just talk to him on that score," Severus suggested gently.

"I could. You are right," she conceded. "But, I don't know that that would help."

"And it could be worse, Minerva," he dead panned.

"Oh?" she asked in a "prove it" sort of voice, one eye brow cocked high.

"Horace Slughorn could be downstairs right now drooling all over your mother."

"Stop it," she said with a barely repressed shiver.

"Or Hagrid?"

"I _**like**_ Hagrid," Minerva insisted.

"Yes, but if it was Hagrid, they would need to find out where Asha and Niall got that oversized bed from," Severus mused. Oh, a married man should know better, but Severus could not resist his tendency to use shock and awe to finish a verbal duel. Or in this case to produce an emotional collapse.

Minerva's hand flew up defensively to ward off the images he was planting in her brain. But it was no use.

Having rendered his wife uncharacteristically speechless, he continued, "May I suggest for today that you just pretend everything about the situation is normal? I hate to admit I have noticed such a thing, but your mother looks very ... happy to have him around. And Filius is in too good of a mood to take anything you say to heart..."

"I know. So, I may as well say nothing," she agreed in a dismal tone.

"You could always try looking happy yourself," he suggested.

"Fine," she replied with weariness. "I don't suppose you want to rub my back to seal the deal? Or a little nibble would help. Right here?" she suggested running a finger over the tense muscles in the back of her neck.

"Right now?" he said with disbelief.

"You suggested I try to look happy. A nibble would help me relax...make me happy. It's not sex. It's just a nibble."

He closed the door they were about to leave through and turned her slowly so she faced it. She sighed with anticipation as he wrapped his arms around her waist and snugged up against her bottom. He breathed hard against her neck, and she pushed back against him while she waited for the lovely sensation of teeth nipping at her neck. But it didn't come.

"The nibble? Please, Severus," she begged, tilting her head to expose her neck even more.

"A question first. As I am woefully inexperienced with what constitutes a relationship, let alone a NORMAL relationship..."

"Hmmmmm?" she purred in frustration. "Normal?"

"Is this at all normal that you want me to bite your neck so that you can feign happiness at breakfast?"

"I don't CARE if it is normal," she moaned and unconsciously wiggled against him. "I need a nibble. And if you do it just right, then I will NOT be feigning happiness."

...

Filius and Helen were well into their breakfasts, Minerva could see from the doorway to the dining room. She paused slightly there on the threshold, causing Severus to stop short and put a hand to her shoulder. Stuck there behind her, he considered the small red marks on the back of her neck and winced. Impulsively, he raised a single finger to stroke the spots. He heard her sigh appreciatively.

"Good morning, Filius! How are you?" Minerva asked cheerfully as she stepped into the room. Her smile was impish and her cheeks were a lively pink. With a practiced manner, she bent to kiss her mother.

"I'm fine," Filius sputtered after a choked and suspicious pause.

"Good. Good," she told him, and she patted him heartily on the shoulder on her way to the buffet.

"Min?" came a curious little voice from the Charms Master.

"Yes, Filius?"

"Is this a ... trick?"

"A trick? No. Really, I just want you to be happy," she said, putting weight to her words. "We both want you to be happy," she blithely purred as she filled her plate.

_It __**was**__ a trick, _Filius thought. He was damned sure it was. He just couldn't figure it out. And until he did, he would not be... _**happy**_.

Filius nervously finished his breakfast and then shaking off the feeling that he was being had, he pushed out his chair.

"Wish me luck, Love," he said enigmatically as he pressed his lips to Helen's cheek.

Minerva watched him go and then registered a pop beside her.

"A parcel has arrived from London, Sir," an appearing house elf announced to Severus.

"Good." And he was on his feet, tossing the napkin to his plate. Minerva's eyes were on her husband's retreating back as her mother's words found her.

"Are you holding a grudge?" The words were brisk and startling.

"Me?" Minerva asked turning to her mother with surprise.

"You don't realize that that is what it is, perhaps."

"No." Minerva protested.

"You resent Filius." A hard gaze fell on her daughter from the elder witch's deceptively softened face. "Things have never been easy between you and I, and Filus is just one more thing to point that out. It was much the same between you and your father, you know," she said with a more conciliatory tone. "The two of you could easily make me feel like the outsider. You were as thick as thieves..."

Minerva averted her eyes as she considered how best to proceed. "I don't think it is a grudge," she said as she reached for the tea pot and then warmed her hand on the round, heated belly of it. But the lack of confidence in her tone said otherwise. And sighing, Minerva decided to side step things if she could. "Where was Filius off to that he needs luck this morning?" she asked to change the subject.

"He is proposing a building project to the Hogwarts Board of Governors."

And the subject was deftly turned from the uncomfortable briar patch of mother-daughter emotions.

Fresh from her conversation with her mother, Minerva sought out her husband in his lab. He froze in the lab's store room when he heard her footsteps on the stairs. Wrung dry of any husbandly ability to listen to tales of bruised sensibilities, he did not welcome a conversation provoked by her close quarters with Filius and Helen that morning. If pressed on what he thought about his mother-in-law's current choice of playmate, he was likely to admit he approved if only because an infatuated Helen had less time on her hands to meddle with him. With an impatient and inward groan he acknowledged to himself that that was not a sentiment Minerva would want to hear.

It was with relief then that he found the conversation took a decidedly different turn.

"Filius' plan is practical. Economical," Minerva explained in an enthusiastic tone. "There will be two cottages built on the school's grounds. Two sets of "house parents" to live with households of 5 orphaned children each. Priority will be given to those children who have an older sibling at Hogwarts. If we do not provide for those individuals, Filius fears the elder sibling will feel the need to leave school."

"It sounds like a good solution," Severus agreed as he continued to draw bottles from their straw packaging.

"And it gives students a place to spend summers if they have no family."

He nodded quickly, shelved the last of his new supplies, and turned to her.

"My mother wants to have any children from here who do not move on to their own new homes among those at Hogwarts. She's grown attached to them. She told me she has cancelled her lease at the Villas." Minerva shook her head. Looked away.

"You are surprised," he said as he studied her features, especially the cast of her eyebrows. "You are not used to this from your mother."

"What?"

"The sincerity of feeling? Or perhaps the obvious depth of feeling?" he said still trying to work it out himself.

"There was my father and he was _**everything**_ to her," she began. "And there was her work, something I never saw, but I saw its hold on her. And I didn't think she would ever feel that strongly about anything else."

"You are comparing it to how you believe she feels _**about you**_," he said leaping on the sudden sense of understanding. "You didn't think she had that depth of feeling for you, but she must have...?" Cautiously, diplomatically, he told her, "In her way, she cares for you."

"I didn't think she did. And I don't now."

"You are feeling jealous," he whispered. _Jealous of Filius_, he thought.

"We aren't close. We are so different," she said in a discouraged voice. "And I tried. I did. Things do seem better now... somewhat. But now with Filius..." Minerva stopped. Filius was more than she wanted to tackle, figuratively or literally.. Physically, she shifted her shoulders, as mentally she changed tacks, "This War is over, but the ripples are still moving through us all, aren't they? I never thought I would see the day my mother would become sociable again. So... charged and full of life. She seemed content to brood and hold court in France. If nothing else, I can't believe she is willing to brave another winter up here."

"There must be something that makes it seem worth doing," Severus tried gently.

"Alright. Alright," she said holding her hands up in surrender, "I'll admit it. It isn't just a passing fancy. They are not just trying to drive me insane with their sophomoric actions. She must be very attached to Filius for her to do this. And she deserves that happiness." She bit off a growl with the distaste of the disclosure, "And it has nothing to do with me or how well she and I get along."

He kissed her in reward.

* * *

"They're home!! They're home!!" Mary yelled up the stairs.

She and Zoe had been keeping watch in the library. The green glow that signaled someone's arrival sent Zoe to jumping and prompted Mary to sound the alarm. By the time Asha and Niall stepped from the fireplace, all of the children were assembled. Minerva walked in in time to see Zoe launch herself at the pair. Niall quickly hugged her and moved her to his shoulders so that he could deal with the onslaught Zoe had triggered.

Niall picked up three children at once and an overjoyed roar bubbled up from his chest. Asha hugged him and the cheering group. The other children held the man by the legs threatening to trip him as he moved for the settee. He threw himself upon it and let them pile on him and as Asha tried to ease away, he reached out a long arm from the melee to scoop her about the middle. She jokingly protested as she fell into the mass.

"The boy looks happy again, Minerva." Helen said from her chair.

"I think we all do lately," her daughter replied taking up the seat beside her.

Helen squeezed her daughter's hand catching the meaning plainly. "You are a dear, Minerva, to put up with me... I know, I have been too distant. You were always your father's daughter. And..."

"Shush, mum," Minerva replied with a shake of her head. She brought the smaller woman's hand to her cheek. "I love you," she said as if providing a full-stop to a sentence's end. The tone and the squeeze of her hand declared firm closure to the discussion.

"Feste!" Zoe yelled drawing everyone's attention to the man half in the door. The girl's smile was wide and she reached her hand toward Severus as if to invite him into the pile that was tangled on the settee.

Responding where Severus wouldn't, Minerva quickly crossed to the group, patted her smiling son on the cheek and knelt by Zoe. Once she had kissed the girl, she leaned into the group with a cheerful sigh.

"Madness," Severus said, taking up the spot Minerva had vacated next to Helen.

"And you deserve every bit of it," the old woman chuckled.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** ** I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Hang with me folks. Life and an errant plot bunny conspired against me. Sick kids didn't help, either. :)**

**Thanks, Sel....**

* * *

Courtroom Ten was dimly lit by torches and the stone walls shone as if wet. It felt like being at the bottom of a well to Minerva. _Only less inviting_, she thought as she turned her gaze to take in the members of the Wizengamot and the press. The seats they filled rose up in rows from the floor to a ridiculous height. The only empty chair was the one reserved for the Minister. She smiled slightly as she thought of Shacklebolt. His open chair would be a constant reminder to those present that the Minister had recused himself from these proceedings. And that he did not support this trial in the least.

Behind her, she knew, were the few seats allotted to her friends and family. It would not do to turn and seek them out. It would not be prudent to cast what would, no doubt, be portrayed as a weak gesture to those who watched. If her accusers sick curiosity sought to feast on fear and discomfort, they would have to look else where. So she steeled her spine and fixed Under Secretary Wilkes and Special Prosecutor Cullen with a contemptuous, fearless look.

Severus sat with Helen on his right and Arthur Weasley to his left. He eyed the pimply Court Scribe who was nervously poised to take notes of the proceedings. And he sniffed with disdain at the puffed up look of the Wizengamot members in their plum-colored robes - an elaborate silver "W" on their chests. It was the sight of the Interrogators, Cullen and Wilkes, conferring with their heads together, that set him to seething.

According to the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused is allowed to call witnesses in his or her defense. Rhoda stood at Minerva's side, eyeing the list of witnesses she had prepared.

The hearing opened with a procedural discussion of the witness list. Wilkes quickly dismissed the idea of the Reverend Gilchrist or Rubeas Hagrid testifying as, in his words, "There is no obligation in this court to entertain the views of those who are not full members of Wizarding society."

The remarks physically rattled the Potions Master. Without thinking, he was soon stroking the front of his coat where, for him, relief lay in the form of his wand. If only he could find a way, despite the ministry's dampeners on wanded magic, to hex the lot of them.

"Severus," the man next to him hissed. "No wands. No spells. Say it, Severus," Arthur Weasley instructed paternally.

"Weasley," Severus replied menacingly.

"Minerva McGonagall," came Under Secretary Wilkes' amplified voice. "You admit your guilt in the matter of falsifying official documents and the misuse of a corpse?"

"I do," she replied firmly.

"And it will be my pleasure to show that you did so for your own satisfaction and for your own private and nefarious purposes...." Wilkes added pompously.

As the accusations continued, she unconsciously moved to stretch the tension from her neck. What she longed for was a fair fight and she was beginning to see that was not coming.

The morning was mostly procedural, with time for only a few witnesses. During the midday break, they waited inside the Ministry's foyer, but the staring and the reporters became too much.

"They will not let Albus' portrait testify," Rhoda complained breathlessly as she hurried over to them.

"Well that's understandable," Minerva quipped. "With Augusta Longbottom on the list, they figured hearing from one old queen was enough."

Severus could not resist snickering at his wife's humor and turned to Rhoda, explaining, "I prefer having him nailed some place that is easy to avoid, anyway, Rhoda. We haven't made our peace with the old man."

He turned to his wife and said, "Come on. We'll go out onto the side walk. Find a bench. Anything but stand here."

He took off his outer robe and then helped her with hers. After he had piled the robes into Rhoda's waiting arms, he looked at his wife's attire. They will look like somewhat eccentric muggles, but this is London, not Iowa, he thought. It should be alright.

She smiled at him in return, but the action was weak.

They crossed the street and stood against a railing, their backs to the traffic. Severus put his foot up on the bottom rung and leaned his forearms on to the cool iron. Looking over to admire his long form, Minerva cocked her head and smiled at him appreciatively.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm a lucky woman."

"A little more luck would do you well," he ground out.

She stepped into him and he put a protective arm about her lightly. As he looked past her shoulder he saw a familiar form. He groaned and shook his head to clear the vision, but it didn't fade... it only got closer.... and the bushy hair was unmistakable.

"Joy," he said facetiously.

"What?" she demanded, knowing that tone.

"One of your Gryffindor cubs has found you out," he whispered in a forced, mock happy voice. He dropped his arm and took a half step away.

Hermione was flustered. There was a lot to say. She started with "Hello" and then faltered. _Do you remark on their wedding first or acknowledge Snape being alive?_ she wondered. _No precedent there,_ she thought.

"Professor Snape, I was very happy to hear you weren't... dead." It sounded as peculiar as she had supposed it would.

"I was fairly happy about it, as well," Snape said. Minerva glared at him. Would the sarcasm never end? _Well, no_, she realized with a smile. It would not. He gave Minerva a pained look, but managed a mostly sincere sounding "Thank you," finally in Hermione's direction.

"And I wanted to congratulate you.... on your marriage."

"Thank you, Hermione," Minerva said with a smile.

"I don't want to intrude any longer. I know there is a lot going on for you. I just wanted to let you know that we are all thinking of you right now. Worried. We just wish there was something we could do."

Minerva stepped forward and put an arm around Hermione. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Severus scowled and ground his teeth hard. He had a few suggestions for Hermione, beginning with leaving if she truly did not want to intrude. But he managed to keep his mouth shut. How typical that someone should offer comfort to Minerva and end by being comforted by her instead. He relaxed his jaw and blew out the breath he was holding.

He stepped forward to claim Minerva as she released Hermione. "We only have another 45 minutes before the hearing reconvenes. Do you want to walk a bit, stretch your legs?"

"Yes, thank you, Severus. That's a good idea. Keep my mind off things as well." She smiled a thin smile at him and turned to Hermione.

"I hope we will see you again soon, Hermione. Under better circumstances."

"Yes, Professor. I whole-heartedly agree," she said to Minerva before addressing Severus. "Good bye, Professor Snape. And thank you." A slightly devious smile played at Hermione's mouth.

A distinctly peeved and confused look appeared on Severus' face in return. Hermione knew he would not deign to ask for an explanation, but perhaps he would realize that she was thanking him for making Professor McGonagall happy.

"Good day, Miss Granger," Severus said in a tone remarkable for its lack of sarcasm. Minerva took up his arm and they stepped off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace as Hermione turned to cross the street. Once on the far side, she turned to indulge her romantic sensibilities and watch the strangely well-matched couple together.

The second half of the day dragged on. The two sides presented could not be more different. The witnesses Rhoda called to speak on Minerva's behalf described a woman who had selflessly devoted her life to the Wizarding community, a woman who had fought bravely without regard for her own safety.

But Wilkes and Cullen took it in turns to portray her as power hungry, as a woman who abused her position, who made decisions as they benefited her. She was not, they contended, a woman who was focused on winning the battle that day, but only on doing what ever was necessary to save that one man. Severus Snape.

It was just as well that they did not allow Albus' portrait to testify. Minerva's association with Dumbledore and his disregard for rules was constantly highlighted. Cullen and Wilkes painstakingly painted the picture of the pair of them as people who felt they were above the regulations that governed Wizarding society. They depicted Albus and Minerva as arrogant renegades who acted without council, who believed they alone knew what was best in the fight against Voldemort or in the running of the school.

The more Minerva heard, the more disconnected from reality she felt. Rather than prolong these proceedings, as Rhoda seemed to want to do, she longed to have them conclude.

"Enough, Rhoda," she whispered harshly. "Can't we call for an end to this."

"I need till tomorrow, Min. They'll dismiss things for the day soon," Rhoda said and she patted Minerva reassuringly on the shoulder.

It was only 3 o'clock in the afternoon. These punishing proceedings could have gone on for at least an hour more. But suddenly, with a wicked grin on his face, Under Secretary Wilkes pushed back his chair and adjourned the hearing until the next day.

The confused look on Minerva only grew when Rhoda told her with a slight smile and her eyes on Wilkes, "I've got work to do. I'll try to meet up with you later tonight."

* * *

Quiet. That was the word for it. The word "eggshells" came to mind as well, Minerva thought. They were back at the Clinic for the night despite the slightly torturous series of hops that it would take them come morning to get to the Ministry.

Filius came for dinner. Subdued, he reminded her of nothing so much as a dormouse. Unbelievably, she even missed his flirtatious ways that would have – at this point- been a welcomed sign of normalcy. Even Zoe was cowed. She sensed the weight that the adults were under. She shoo'd the other children away with a flurry of hands and angry looks. Once the Clinic's other wards were led upstairs by 'Uncle' Filius and Niall for bed time stories, Zoe turned back to Minerva. She then led Minerva to the settee and sat on her. It was a four year old's idea of providing comfort, Minerva knew. And, so she was thankful for the warm lump in her arms that gave her something concrete to consider.

Severus was physically and emotionally distant. He had conferred quietly with Helen and Filius before dinner. He had sent no fewer than three owls that night. Finally, he stood before the pair of them on the settee and announced, "Bed, Zoe." She looked at him pleadingly and, if possible, burrowed deeper into Minerva. "Now, girl," he said. But Zoe did not move.

"It's alright, Severus. Let's take her up." And with a kiss to Zoe's cheek, she told the child, "I would carry you, but I'm too tired tonight. Let your Feste. Won't you?"

Minerva watched Severus, expecting a protest. A roll of the eyes, perhaps. _**Something**_ at being asked to carry the girl to her bed rather than having her march up herself. But it did not come. "Here, girl," he said softly, holding out his arms. And the child unwound herself from Minerva's neck and wrapped her arms around Severus.

Minerva stood and would not let Severus move. With a hand to his arm she held him there so she could soak it in, the sight of him with the girl in his arms. Smiling, she finally released his coat and murmured, "Alright," as she stroked Zoe's hair one more time.

And again they sunk into silence. There was not another word said until they were home in the cottage and in their bed. The light out, he reached for her and gathered her up. "I do not want you to worry, Minerva."

"Apparently, you have been watching a different hearing, Severus, if you think there is no reason for worry," she told him.

"I will not lose, Minerva. I will not let you go."

She answered him with kisses. Kisses she sent straight to her lock box of memories. She cataloged it all. The feel of his fingertips on her back. The smell of his skin. The tickle of his hair against her face. With an effort at letting go, she was able to sink into the warmth of him and leave the world behind until morning.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: I am disclaimed. I own nothing. Well, except for the birds. I made those up myself. (Smiles proudly.)**

**Selmak was a great help. Thanks, Sel. **

* * *

The morning's session, beyond being grueling, felt pointless. Minerva looked at Rhoda, a question obvious in her eyes. Why was this woman dragging things out? Why, when there was no way it would change the outcome? These people had the means to take out their anger on Minerva and they would. How did these last hours of testimony matter?

Minerva let out an audible sigh at the announced change of witness from Harry Potter to Elphias Dodge. The attention of the room left the always newsworthy Potter for the ancient and plodding Dodge. He had not been seen in public in 6 months. Even the members of the Wizengamot strained their necks to see him more clearly. Rita Skeeter's tell-all biography on their minds, the court room observers closely examined Elphias. Some were discreet, others were less so.

Adding to the confusion was the swell of reporters who were anxious to exit the room with their stories and pictures of Harry. As two reporters passed through the thin aisle near Severus they collided in a tangle, landing on the floor.

Elphias Dodge continued his slow way to the stand, emphasizing his progress with grunts and groans. As Harry moved for his seat he was basically now forgotten, few saw his eyes dart to Arthur Weasley. No one but Minerva saw the young man reach into his robe, but then he was, at this point, poised directly in front of her.

The hairs on Minerva's neck were standing on end. She had spent too long around the prankish and the decidedly villainous to miss the signs of trouble unfolding. Her senses were already heightened when she registered the disturbance in the hallway outside the courtroom. The reporters, she could see as she turned from Harry, were just now extracting themselves from their pile and were pushing for the door when a frightening, whooping call made them freeze.

The doors were pushed open despite their wards and George Weasley bounded in, wild-eyed. Many of those assembled near the doors were on their feet and backing away as smoke began to roll in around George's feet as if his shoes were alight. The young man's grin was lop sided and understandably many there feared for his sanity at the sight of him. There was some clucking amid the stares as people shook their heads and told each other he would never be the same after the death of his brother.

With a look of concern, Minerva stood, as if to walk to him. George let no one approach him though. He climbed over rows of chairs and their occupants like an escaped orangutang too wiley to be bagged. Laughing and cheering, he taunted those who called for him to be restrained. Of the Aurors present, only the two stationed beside Under Secretary Wilkes attempted to intercept George. The other Aurors present made half hearted work of circling around George, their attempts obviously feeble.

As a loyal Auror raised his wand, Helen moved fluidly to his side. With what appeared to be maternal concern, she reached for him. She seemed to merely stand with him, clasping his hand as if he were a small boy who needed help crossing the street. The man's eyes softened and he stood quite still now, his spell unformed on his lips.

"Everyone will take their seats," Wilkes yelled. His words seemed ridiculous given the momentum the confusion had gained.

George began to yell louder, finally finding words. "Wilkes," he called. "She got the package you sent!" George seemed to trip coming over a railing, but he righted himself and continued forward with his eyes on Wilkes and Cullen. "Pictures, Wilkes! A Special Edition of the Daily Prophet!"

As Minerva tried to cross the open floor to intercept him, she was pulled from behind.

"It's time to go, Professor," she heard Harry's voice in her ear. His arms wrapped a cloak about her and his hands closed on her arms from behind. Her eyes locked at that moment with a suddenly lucid looking Elphias Dodge. Smacking his walking stick to the ground in a manner reminiscent of Mad Eye Moody, he had the attention of most of the crowd now. He spun to project his voice at the Under Secretary. "Have you idiots completely lost control here? Wilkes! Cullen! Look at me you fools." An astute listener would have heard the hint of humor in the ancient voice.

A surge of people were all around Minerva suddenly, but none impeded Harry's progress with her. He walked her to a side exit under the bleachers that held the Committee. Once near the door, Harry released her. With a strong push, he propelled her toward the opening. Frustrated, she pulled the hood of the Invisibility Cloak off her head and prepared to berate the young man who was moving back to the crowd.

"Ah, hullo, Professor," a deep voice greeted her from behind. She turned to see Hagrid, stooping to enter through the small doorway. He had spoken to her quite genially, as if the two of them were merely passing on the street. She stumbled to the side to allow him to pass and in stunned silence noted that Hagrid appeared to be carrying two full sized, speckled chickens under each arm. She was trying to wrap her mind around the idea when she saw Rolanda and Filius come through the door. Minerva watched wide-eyed as they cast wandless and surreptitious shielding and disillusionment charms that seemed to cut her off from the rest of the room.

Pomona Sprout edged her way through the door now, smiling. She pulled a flask from her cloak and Minerva could not help but stop and stare. Who decided the middle of a melee was the place for tipple!? As Pomona lowered the flask from her lips, she wagged her eyebrows at Minerva. Madam Sprout moved forward until a change began to grip her. And as she grew taller and thinner, she purred, ran her hands over her hips and then turned with a smile. Minerva was staring at a polyjuiced doppleganger.

"Oh no you don't!" Minerva said and started off after Pomona. She was pulled roughly from behind. Severus' voice scolded her, "Come along!"

As Severus held a guiding hand to her invisible back, and steered her through the narrow maintenance corridor, she began to complain vehemently. She pushed at the hood of the invisibility cloak. Attempting to slow their progress, she turned to face her husband. But he was undeterred, finally, taking her by the hand like an errant child and pulling her along. "I _**knew **_handling_** you**_ would be the most difficult part of this plan."

He stopped at a door and told her, "This is the final stretch. We cross the foyer to the main Floos. There was no way around this part, so just _**please**_ behave. I swear woman I will levitate you if I have to...

He pulled the invisibility cloak firmly around her. "Take hold of my coat so I know you are there. Straight for the Floo. Walk past me and into it while I grab the powder.

"Alright, Severus... but..."

"Just say, 'Alright Severus. Yes, Severus. I'll do as you ask, Severus. No questions.' Just _**once**_ could you say that to me?"

"Yes. I'll do as you ask. No questions..... For now." Quickly, she pulled down the hood and launched herself at him. Kissed him hard and said, "I'm ready."

She replaced the hood and he watched her disappear. And then she tugged his coat to let him know she was ready.

With long legs they crossed the Foyer quickly, the confusion had spread to the mostly empty foyer. People stood in small groups trading gossip on what they thought was happening in Court Room Ten.

"Saint's depot," he hissed as he thrust her into the fireplace. She looked up at him and he was cast in a green light.

"'Saint's Depot' did you say?" she asked, surveying her new surroundings. They were in a cabin, surrounded by pine panelling and the faint smell of smoke and must.

"It is a safe house. There are dozens of them held by the Department of Aurors. They rotate pass words, making it difficult for anyone, even people from the department, to find someone," he explained.

"But Saint's Depot? Is that a code word?"

"That was Potter," he spat. "He used his fame while interning with the Aurors this summer to get us use of the safe houses. He had come to me with the password 'Saints Rest' to bring us here and I reminded him we were not quite dead yet."

"And let's not forget that we are not exactly saints..." she said as she explored the cabin further. She found the dilapidated accommodations extended to only two rooms.

Severus moved to the window and pulled back the curtain and tried to check outside. Minerva did not think the blackness to the panes was a safety feature. As Severus released the curtain, Minerva tried not to notice that the fabric fell like a rock because of the weight of the grime adhered to it.

"Am I to understand I have been kidnapped, Severus?" Minerva asked peevishly. It is not that she was ungrateful. In fact, the idea could have been romantic, if she was not currently afraid to touch anything near her.

"Do you think I would have just let them take you?" he asked. "I believe the charges will be dropped now that certain things are coming to the fore. But I am not trusting your future to the Wizengamot. This will only be he first step. If need be, we will make several jumps for me to be assured we are untraceable.

"And then?" she asked amazed at how simply he could discuss such a thing.

"And then that would be our life."

"What about Zoe?" she complained.

"I would send for her once we were safe. I transfered all my funds months ago, splitting it between a muggle bank and a goblin who acts independantly in matters such as these.

"But something George had makes you think the charges will be dropped. He had photos of something. And papers?"

"I believe he had the proof we needed that Wilkes was prosecuting you based on a vendetta and that he was reporting back to someone in Azkaban on his progress."

"And why was Hagrid carrying chickens," Minerva asked, "or God help me, did I imagine that part?"

"Those were _L__anguidus Fowl," _he explained.

"No! You're kidding," she said, although she was not sure she had ever known him to do such a thing. "Where did he find them? My God, was he going to stuff them in a dark sack so they would crow?"

"Of course not. That would be illegal," he told her with a straight face. "I am sure he just forgot to leave them at home. However, if we read that a strange and _**languorous**_ stupor over took those in Courtroom 10, we may have an inkling of what happened."

"How many people did you rope in to helping today?" she asked.

I did not involve many who willing offered to do anything for you. Arthur for instance will have a new daughter soon to consider, I refused his help with anything strictly illegal. But Rolanda is a rare find...."

"Rolanda?" she asked.

"Her personality lends itself to chaos," he said seriously. "She is a natural. We all focused on natural, innate and wandless magic as there is nothing in the Ministry's wards to protect against that... nothing to suppress that. And for Rolanda creating chaos comes very naturally. Your mother and I tested wandless magic on the first day of your hearing. Your mother was turning reporters from our area in the committee chambers quite easily. Few adults have sought to harness that innate magic that is emotion driven. They view it as childish."

"Your time with Zoe and the other children has paid off," she suggested with a smile.

"We all focused on our strengths and found ways to use magic that could not be stifled. Some of the time that Filius spent at the house was spent preparing for your hearing, preparing to contain those he could so that we could make our way to the Floo."

"Filius?" she said incredulously.

"And your mother would have done anything for you. _**Anything**_, Minerva," he stressed. "There would have been an amazing display of magic had they attempted to actually incarcerate you. There were only a few of us, but our skills would have been quite daunting and caught them unaware. Certainly, we caught YOU unaware," he said with a small smirk.

"I can't believe it. You would have just bundled me off in the confusion and begun hopping through safe houses," she accused.

"Yes," he said simply. "Anything. I am done with the way the Wizarding world does business. And I will always protect myself and mine." He took in the uncomfortable stance she had taken up, as she tried to limit her contact with anything in the house. "Just sit down, Minerva. Rhoda will be here soon, hopefully to tell us what the final ruling is. Once the smoke clears that is."

"Normally, that is just a figure of speech. But where the Weasleys are concerned," she said with a hint of a smile. "Suddenly, it isn't." Minerva eyed the dirty sofa and decided against sitting.

A voice addressed them from the fireplace as if on cue. "I'm coming through. No wands, alright Severus?" Rhoda kidded.

The fireplace began to glow green, heralding her arrival. Rhoda began talking before she had even cleared the edge of the fireplace.

"I have to hope things are going to sort out the right way, Minerva. The hearing is adjourned. That room was in a complete state of anarchy. The Daily Prophet is selling out as we speak, I am sure. Ron Weasley got pictures to them while his brother was making his appearance at the court room." Rhoda stopped then and began to process her surroundings. "Whoa," she said looking at the listing couch.

"Yes, I know about the couch AND the cabin, Rhoda. _**What**_ have you got on Wilkes!?" Minerva asked impatiently.

"Well, if someone is corrupt - and you had to figure _**he**_ was the way he was going after you - it is usually sex or money," she grinned, enjoying her victory. "I had him followed and this guy had less of a sex life than a potted plant. But I couldn't get him on money either. I had friends of yours keep an eye open for anything into his behavior. And George and Ron Weasley saw him quite a bit in Diagon Alley. He was making little purchases the way a man with a mistress would, but he never met with anyone, man or woman that we could connect to him sexually. So, we were stumped. It seemed incredible that the guy was actually buying these things for his wife.

"Do you remember that Auror, Severus, the one from the meeting with Ursula Credea? The one you pinned to a wall," Rhoda said with a smile.

"Yes," Severus replied slowly with narrowed eyes.

"I remembered that you had accused him of being the Wilkes' lackey and that got me thinking we needed to watch him, too. And he was making runs to Azkaban. Not out of the question when you work for the Ministry, but it was just a few too many trips. One thing that really got us thinking was when Hermione Granger saw him buying pink knickers in a size twice that of what the svelte Mrs. Wilkes would wear.

"The Auror was smuggling pink knickers into Azkaban?" Minerva asked.

Yes. Smythe, that's the Auror, was running errands for Wilkes. He bought the pink lace knickers and then he went to Azkaban, on Wilkes' behalf, and delivered them to Dolores Umbridge."

Minerva was unable to contain her surprise or her disgust and made a rather unladylike noise and shuddered.

"Wilkes was having an affair with Delores Umbridge? Merlin, that may be the final thing to set me to retching."

"What sort of pictures did you get then, Rhoda? Certainly Umbridge was not parading around her cell in pink knickers professing her love for Wilkes," Severus said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No. She needed to be seen by a healer recently. Some sort of allergic reaction after her last package from Wilkes arrived." And at the last bit Rhoda's mouth began to twitch violently. "It WAS unfortunate that it turned out to be itching powder instead of bath powder that was delivered to her. Not only did she itch all over – and I mean ALL OVER – but her forehead sprouted the words 'Property of Wilkes.'"

"How did you manage to get him to order those jinxed products for her?" Minerva wondered.

"We made sure he got a lot of faux Weasley catalogs and flyers," Severus chimed in.

"My God. I've been saved by junk mail." And then looking at her palms as if the ancient sofa was dirtying her, she dusted off her hands and stepped back. "So, I no longer need a safe house! The charges will be dropped. We can go home."

"We are not leaving here until the Wizengamot issues a public statement that you are safe from prosecution," he said throwing himself into a chair by the fire to demonstrate his intractability. Minerva winced at the sight of the dust cloud that rose from the chair and briefly engulfed her husband.

Eyeing the dirty curtains that were frighteningly near her husband's head, she asked, "Do you at least have any of those other passwords? Maybe someplace where people knew how to keep house?"


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** **Sniff... I can see the end from here. I think that has made it hard for me to write these last few chapters. Suffice it to say, things will go out with a bang. Not a whimper. As there will be Weasleys involved. **

* * *

The pair spent a lovely two days in a safe house that finally met with Minerva's approval.

Severus had acted very put out about it, but in truth he was just as glad to put the dingy little cabin behind him... if only so he could relax. Because one could not relax when Minerva McGonagall was glaring at you.

There were Floo passwords that Severus had memorized, but he did not know where they would lead him. And, in fact, the passwords would then rotate if they waited too long. So, he stood, walked to the fireplace and made a grand gesture telling her that she should join him.

"Cat's Cradle," he announced as he dashed the Floo powder.

"Promising name," she said smiling at him as she walked from the large brick fireplace at their destination.

She moved quickly knowing that her husband's patience was, at this point, no longer than a three-year-old's. She would need to tell him her verdict quickly. They were in a lodge, the type of dwelling that would be a family's summer vacation home. Pine panelling again, but this time she could actually smell the wood rather than the dirt, mold, and smoke.

She walked through the large living room, passing a finger over the furniture to surreptitiously gauge its cleanliness. And then she made for the closest door. There was a small kitchen that she found was actually fairly well stocked with basics. Positively humming now, she headed back out and down the hall to where she hoped there would be bedrooms and a bath. The master bedroom did not disappoint. The large bed was covered in a handsome quilt and the pillows were piled high. There were fresh linens in a cupboard even. She looked out the window and called to her husband. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"There is a framed map of the Lakes District by the door and entirely too many pictures of Herdwick ewes," he called back.

"That fits," she said.

Once she saw the adjacent bath with large tub and jars of bath salts, she grinned slyly. She knew they were staying the night.

Rhoda acted a tad peeved when she finally found them. She stepped from the fireplace brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet. Minerva looked as happy as a sated cat curled up on the couch. Severus occupied a chair near her and was reading something he had found on the ample bookshelves.

"Do you two have any interest in going home?" she said accusingly.

At first, Minerva merely widened her smile. "Alright, Rhoda," she finally said. "Make us an offer."

"The Minister of Magic has declared you two exempt from prosecution on any past charges," Rhoda told them snapping the paper open to display the headline. MINERVA MCGONAGALL FREE FROM PROSECUTION!!

Severus closed his book with a ringing thud, thereby declaring an end to their impromptu holiday.

###

They returned to the Clinic to find Filius Flitwick bouncing with excitement, a welcome that made Severus cock an eyebrow and retain his distance from the wee man.

"I've done it. Well, WE'VE done it. Severus, I managed a Placement Charm that targets the nervous system. Used in conjunction with the potion you designed, Asha and Niall have managed to restore partial nerve function in two of the patients!"

Seeing Severus was too stunned by the news to move, Minerva swept forward and hugged her old friend. "That's great news, Filius," she said softly.

"I'm so glad you are back, Minerva. The whole trial was so..." and the man sniffed and then tapered off, feeling the emotion get the better of him.

"Well done," Severus finally managed and shook the elder wizard's hand heartily.

Minerva spared the familiar room a look, and thought, _Well and truly home... _and then smiling at Filius, she decided the small man was a mostly-welcomed addition to the house and well... the family._ ._

###

Minerva wasted no time in preparing the children for an adoption ceremony. The summer was nearly ended and a new term would be starting at Hogwarts. And for the first time there would be housing on the grounds for orphans. She allowed herself a self-satisfied smile at the thought of Filius and her mother visiting the cottages where the children would live.

The most important part of the planning was getting her friend Gil to preside.

A mere week later, 50 people found themselves tightly packed into the clinic's library for the children's leave taking.

"Sometimes in life we find ourselves alone," Gil began. His white vestments added an air of formality and solemnity to the affair, and he spread his arms in a familiar welcoming gesture. "And alone, for many many of us, is not how we want to be. There is so more to two or three, it seems, than there is to one. So much more we can do and feel and be..."

He smiled broadly then and stepped closer to where the children were sitting.

"The young people here would like to take their places now with the new lives and the new people that they have found. They leave a very good place. A place that held them secure and granted them love until their true place was revealed. Today, our birds go on to new nests."

_Someone is channeling Albus-bleeding-Dumbledore_, Severus thought with a pained look.

"Amanda? Jeremy? Where will you go?" And Jeremy turned his eyes to Filius and Helen and then to the house parents who were sitting next to them. Jeremy still would not speak, but as Amanda proudly announced "Hogwarts" and squeezed his hand, he managed a confident nod of his smiling features.

"I think I'm going to cry," Minerva confided to her husband quietly.

"You feel you need to tell me this?" he complained weakly.

No tears came. She just slid out her lower lip. Her pout pronounced, she set her jaw and tried not to weep.

"Oh, _**please,**_ just go ahead," Severus then conceded after a look at those gathered in the library. "You are 10 minutes behind most of the room anyway."

When it was time for the Weasleys to take Mary, there were no fewer than 5 of the clan there to grab up, mob, and baptize the child with tears.

Zoe then stepped forward. The last child assigned, she was feeling alone and exposed. She sidled up to the Reverend Gilchrist. Without preamble, he slid his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly. "Zoe," he said, his eyes locked to hers, shutting out the room. "What say you? Where will you go?"

"I am here for Severus and Minerva," she said as strongly as she could manage.

"Our cue," Minerva said and stood. The tears, in full force now, were running down her cheeks. She pulled the stunned, pale wizard along with her through the force of her will. Together they walked to the girl and Severus, ram rod straight and the picture of his former self, slowly lowered his head to his chest so that his eyes were held by Zoe's. He bestowed on her a half smile and let her twine her fingers in his.

"You are her comfort, Min. She is your anchor, Severus," the wise Reverend said. "Congratulations," he told the three of them as he patted Minerva's back affectionately. Then he turned to all of those gathered and he announced with exuberance, "Congratulations to you all!"

At the short reception that followed, Poppy threaded her way through the attendees until she was along side Minerva. Her grin was wide and wicked, spelling trouble, Minerva knew.

"There is just one thing we need to make this summer complete, Minerva," the matron near sang.

"What?" Minerva asked with apprehension.

"That wedding reception you owe us!" And before Minerva could object, Poppy slid away to plot with Filius and Helen.

Minerva had an immediate vision of a snowball rolling down hill, picking up speed and mass....

Colliding with a small and unsuspecting cabin...

and reducing it to splinters.


	36. Chapter 36

**The Last Installment of This Old Heart...**

**A/N: (UPDATE Aug 2010). I do check occasionally to see if anyone is still reading this story. And, rest assured, I would love to know if you made it this far and whether or not you like it! Thanks so much for reading.**

* * *

In no time at all the wedding reception was planned. The bride and groom being judged superfluous to the task of arranging things, others laid on the Leaky Cauldron, sent out the invitations ...and put up a sizable amount against the bar bill.

The crowd at the Inn was thick, and Zoe kept a hand to Severus' coat tail as she followed him to join Minerva at a table. The pair slid onto the bench across from Minerva, both looking a little tired of the social scene. In contrast, a very happy looking Arthur Weasley sat next to Minerva.

"Zoe," said Arthur genially. "It is so very good to see you."

"Hi," she murmured and suddenly feeling a bit shy, she leaned slightly into Severus' arm. For those who did not know the man, he might seem a cold parent. He does not extend his arm around the girl to offer comfort. He does not pat her hand or whisper encouragement. But to those who know him, the scene is profound. He offers what the girl needs, acceptance and a welcome, protective shoulder to curl up against. And when her eyes turn to him, he does not look away, but meets her gaze, acknowledging her importance to him and his importance to her.

"It's getting late, so Mary is up in a room with some of the other children," Arthur explained. Looking at Severus, he told him, "Niall and Asha sent along two house elves to play nanny tonight." Then he told Zoe, "So, if you are willing, I could take you up to see the other kids."

"I'll walk you up, Zoe," Severus finally said sensing her reluctance. And the two men rose to escort Zoe up the stairs.

**...**

A short time later, Minerva found herself in the ladies loo, leaned against a wall waiting for Rolanda to finish at the sink. The flying instructor stood in front of the mirror darkening her lipstick - a difficult task given the slightly twitching, wicked grin she sported. Things went even more askew when Poppy's smiling reflection appeared over her shoulder. "So, Rolanda," Poppy sang, "tell me how things are going with this man of yours."

"Ooooo, Poppy!" Rolanda growled with excitement as she capped her lipstick. "His name is Rolf. He is a retired Quidditch player. He was known as the 'Flying Baron.'"

"Very nice," Poppy said. And then with a suggestive wink, she asks, "Is he VERY nice?"

"I wouldn't know. Not _**that**__,_" Rolanda said, "Very old fashioned fellow. I'm getting nowhere with him for now," she said, pouting for the mirror. She then reached to pull her hair straight toward the ceiling. Obligingly, it stuck that way.

Ginny and Hermione having come out of their stalls unnoticed in the midst of the conversation, stood stock still and eyed their former professors.

"And well, good for him" Minerva chimed in sternly with a catch in her throat and a glance at her old students. "Honorable sentiment," and she left. But the sound of laughter followed her.

Minerva threaded through the gathering hoping to find Severus. She waved to the Weasleys who were at a table near the paneled wall. Seeing Arthur was back from upstairs, she sent him a questioning look. It was returned with a gesture in the direction of the courtyard patio. So, hopefully, THAT was where she would find her husband.

Ron stood next to his parents, obviously ill at ease, fidgeting while he waited for Hermione to return from the loo. The song change brought yet another tune unrecognizable to Ron. Grumbling about the music, he turned to his parents. With a hand held high to forestall Ron's further complaints, Arthur stood and invited Molly to join him.

"Excuse us, Ron," the elder Weasley said with a mischievous smile.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

His father wiggled his eyebrows at the young man, earning a very quizzical look. Finally, Ron realized what was going on.

"You're going to dance? To this?" he whined.

"Where I grew up, they called this belt buckle polishing music," Arthur whispered to his son as he stood along side him. Molly took her husband's hand, and smiling, she eagerly followed her husband through the crowd.

Progress for the courtyard was slow for Minerva. She greeted everyone as she moved in that direction. When she saw Niall and Asha in a corner talking with Poppy, she smiled and waved but continued to move through the crowd toward the rear door.

"So," Poppy says to Niall as she returned Minerva's wave. "You were in on this whole ruse. Did you like having Severus for a patient?" she asked knowingly.

"Oh, he was fine. After all he WAS unconscious for most of it," Niall joked.

"It's almost too much to think of him as a husband now," Poppy mused. "And a step father and a father-in-law to boot."

"He gets on well enough with my grandmother as well," Niall said before sipping at his beer.

"How do you think he will take to being a grandfather?" Asha asked Poppy quietly. Niall blushed a bit before smiling happily.

"You mean it?" Poppy asked with wide eyes as her hand pressed to her chest.

"We only just found out last week. " Asha whispered leaning closer.

Poppy wrapped her arms around Asha and murmured her congratulations.

"We haven't told my mum and Severus yet," Niall warned Poppy before the matron had even released his wife.

The smile on Poppy's face was wide and contagious. Despite his unease, Niall could not help now grinning. "Grandpa. Hmmm, Grampy Severus," Poppy said trying the words out while Niall shushed her. "Oh, I would pay to be there when you tell him. To think I have to wait 8 months to see a picture of him holding a baby."

**...**

Out in the walled courtyard, there were scattered groups of people talking. A few couples even danced to the music that poured out the open doorway. Hovering lanterns dimly lit the evening air.

Ron and Hermione stepped outside. The confident young witch pulled Ron off to the side, embarrassed to see him immediately gapping at the couple who were dancing close together under the old oak. Ron's jaw dropped. He could not believe the way Snape was holding Minerva. The way she let him touch her.

"Ron just get over here and at least pretend you are dancing with me." Hermione hissed at him. But Ron just stood there.

"What's this? " he whispered still staring at his former professors.

"It's The Healing Game," Hermione answered him.

"Is that what they're calling it now," he smirked.

"It's the name of the song, you _**idiot**_. I think Professor McGonagall is a Van Morrison fan." Hermione reached up and pulled Ron in and put her arms around his neck, so they could feign dancing.

"I just can't believe it," Ron continued.

"I think they've loved each other a long time, Ron. There just wasn't anything they could do before," she said softly, stealing a glance.

The song ended and Hermione saw the older couple whisper with heads together before Severus walked for the door to the bar.

As Severus approached the younger couple who were near the door, Ron stumbled over himself to get out of the way. The potions master then stopped and stood even with them, but without looking at them.

After an uncomfortable pause, he said, "Unbelievable, Mr. Weasley," in an even tone.

"Sir?" Ron manages to mumble.

Severus smiled, but then stopped. He cast a quick glance at Hermione. "You are out here with a woman you likely do not deserve. One who oddly enough seems to fancy you... and you don't even know what to do about it."

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding as Snape disappeared into the crowd inside. "That's _**not **_Professor Snape," she said once she recovered. "I think that was a complement."

"Oh, that's Snape," Ron grumbled. "The only way he could compliment the one of us was to insult the other."

Severus had made it nearly the whole way to the bar, plodding his way through the ranks of people. Suddenly, Harry turned and barely avoided walking into him. "Sorry, professor."

"And how is 'He-Who-Lived?'" Severus asked as lightly as he could manage.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Harry replied deftly. "Congratulations, Professor. You're a lucky man," he said as he raised his drink in salute. Harry stepped out of the way and once he was released from Snape's uncomfortable gaze, he added, "And I have never seen Professor McGonagall looking so happy." Harry melted into the crowd before Severus could turn to look at him.

Helen caught Severus' eye then. She was smiling and the wink she gave him meant she had probably overheard the entire exchange.

**...**

Severus found his trip back across the room long and torturous. He waded through well-wishers who seemed all the merrier for forcing him to reply to their continued congratulations. Finally, returning to the courtyard door, he could see Ron standing with his arms crossed diffidently across his chest. A familiar stance. The boy was mindless. Always acting the prat even as Hermione's patience visibly cracked.

Something in Severus made him pause. A half smile pricked up his lip, and quickly fingering his wand, he created a gentle push that eased Ron into Hermone's confused grasp.

As Severus reached Minerva and put his hands on to her hips, she whispered accusingly, "What did you do?"

"I went inside to use the loo," he tried feebly.

"Not that! I saw what you did to the youngest Mr. Weasley. And I think you are behind this choice of song."

"Please, Minerva. You are imagining things. And what could YOU possibly have against Peggy Lee's version of Fever," he said seductively. He hummed a little of it, lowering his lips to her neck.

"Not the place or the time, love," she told him. And when she took a step back from him and saw the sly expression on his face, she felt had. "You were trying to distract me. Dratted man," she admonished. "Back to our conversation," she whispered. "You were trying to send Mr. Weasley a message," his wife said with realization as she looked over to the younger couple.

"If I deigned to send him a message, I would, no doubt, require a brick - not a push."

"Ah -Ha! See, it was you!" she said with a punishing finger tapping into his chest. He decided against answering her directly, instead capturing her offending hand and kissing the palm.

"No one does a charm to push air the way you do," she said with a smile, softening to his romantic treatment of her.

He stopped kissing her palm to dramatically quirk an eye brow at her.

"Please, Severus," she said in answer. "Do you honestly think we were fooled in to believing your robes billowed like that of their own volition? And Filius would _**never**_ push my bum through the Infirmary doors. THAT was you."

**...**

They danced a while. Sometimes just stood and talked. They said goodbye to friends who were leaving. And then, finally alone, Severus wordlessly began to lead Minerva over to the ivy covered brick wall. He meant to find a place where he could kiss her properly since she refused to leave the party. He saw the perfect spot and pivoted to pull her into him, planning to back toward the wall.

The song he heard stopped him. He groaned, realizing it was "I Got You, Babe."

"Minerva. I am beginning to take great exception to your song list," he admonished as he stopped short of the wall.

"What can you possibly have against Sonny and Cher?" she asked with humor.

"You know it is starting to sound as if you spent the whole of the 60s cavorting with Muggle celebrities."

She laughed. "They aren't Muggles, Severus. Cher is a very powerful Native American mage. How else do you think she could be 120 and do what she does.

After he had a bit to digest that, he asked, "And Sonny Bono was a Wizard?"

"Squib, poor guy. He was actually a cousin of Filius'. Think about it. You do see the resemblance, don't you?

But he dismissed any worry about Filius' and Sonny Bono's shared genealogy as Minerva rose on her toes to kiss him lightly. He tightened his grasp around her waist and stepped backwards hoping to lean himself against the wall so he could kiss her in the shadows. One more step and he would manage it, he thought.

"Severus," came Arthur Weasley's all too cheerful voice just at his ear. "You are about to trod on my foot."

Molly was heard to giggle like a gleeful school girl.

"Concealment charms seem to be a Weasley specialty," Severus accused looking in the direction of the voice.

"Go on now, Severus," Arthur chided in a low tone. "Find your own bit of wall, eh?"

"Indeed, I think I will find the entire Weasley family out here if I looked any further."

Minerva pulled at his hand as she laughed.

Suddenly, a whizzing sound threatened like a loose bludger. Severus grabbed Minerva and pulled her in instinctively.

And then he saw it. The trail of lights and flashes. Bewitched fireworks dove crazily through the sky over them. Despite the noise, he could just make out the sound of laughter from the tavern roof.

Looking for the person responsible, he saw the display's finale. The fireworks on their last spin across the sky had belched open and spelled out "SEV LOVES MIN" in twinkling technicolor.

"There is a Weasley behind this somewhere," Severus called loudly with the barest amusement.

"I would be most disappointed if there was not," Arthur yelled back happily. "Congratulations, Old Man. Now _**this**_ is a party to remember!"

As the slow song ended and Van Morrison's _Wild Night_ started, Minerva discreetly took hold of Severus' lapel holding him there to dance.

"We're safer here," she claimed with a lecherous smile.

He pulled in closer and they stayed there amid the jumping couples who had appeared to watch the fireworks. In the corner, Rolanda Hooch danced on a chair, waving her hands over her head to the cheers of the Flying Baron. In her own corner, Poppy looped her fingers through Rhoda's and leaned over to give the blushing woman a kiss.

**...**

The recovering wizarding community had found its theme song. In the year to come George Weasley would become a dance promoter, throwing wedding reception themed parties where everyone screamed out the words to _Wild Night_.

* * *

"You seem nervous, Filius," Albus Dumbledore said from his place in his portrait in the Headmaster's office.

Filius dropped a quill and decided to just leave it on he floor in his hurry to vacate the office. "A visitor is coming, Albus, and I need to give you your privacy."

The door swung open and Filius nodded and then reached out a hand to brush the wrist of the tall, imposing witch who stood there. She nodded to the headmaster, but said nothing. Stepping into the office, she stared into Dumbledore's eyes. "Hello, you bastard," was her stinging greeting.

"Yes, I've heard that's your favorite nickname for me," Albus said flatly.

"It's short for 'Arrogant Old Bastard.' I found that was too tiring to say," she said in a voice that did indeed sound tired and did reveal her years. She sunk into a chair opposite his portrait.

"Indeed. I earned it," he admitted. "But, you know, I never meant to hurt you."

"Yes, you always were surprised when things you did not intend happened, Albus. But they did."

"I hear you got married, Min. It makes me so very happy," he said hoping to steer the conversation to the present.

"It has been good. I will admit that," and she smiled as she nodded her head and maybe, blushed.

"You deserve every happiness. As does Severus. Is he here with you?"

"He's outside," she told him. The tone told Albus that yes, Severus was available, but that Albus would not be speaking to him today. Severus was here for Min. He belonged to her now. She held Albus' eyes a long time, cementing that knowledge for him. _You forsook him. I saved him_.

"I forgive you, Albus," she told him evenly, carefully, with deliberation..

"Thank you Minerva. Truly. It has weighed on me," he said somberly.

"I forgive you for myself, so I can get on with my life," she told him and then she paused and smiled a half smile. "And I forgive you for Severus, so he doesn't have to live with a bitter, obsessed old woman."

She pushed herself out of the chair slowly as Albus chuckled.

"Good bye, old friend," she told him with her hand on the door.

"Good bye, my girl."

Just barely, Albus caught a glimpse of the dark clad figure who reached for her as she left.

"See, that all worked!" Albus said cheerfully as the door closed.

There was a collective groan from the assembled portraits.

* * *

Their first Christmas married had gone well. The tike was down the hall in her bed, and the couple lay together in the darkness of their own room. His fingers lazily traced her sides and then got more serious in their exploration.

Severus moaned, near shuddered, as he touched that spot.

"Hmmm?" she questioned nuzzling under his chin.

"So wet," he replied.

"I'm ovulating, if you must know," she told him with mock indignation.

"The contraceptive?" he said, never stopping his touch.

"On the dresser, I haven't taken it."

Rather than move for the stoppered bottle behind him, he slowly, purposefully rolled her on to her back. She seemed entranced by his deliberate movements and gave herself up to what he was doing. Finally though, she asked him, "Severus? No contraceptive? Are you feeling lucky? Living dangerously?"

He answered her with a light nip to her neck. Then he held her eyes as he gently ease himself between her thighs.

"I'm done worrying, perhaps," he said introducing a lilt to the end of his sentence.

"You want a child then?" she asked as she froze with surprise.

He pressed forward with a sigh. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved inside her. And he lowered his mouth to her ear to whisper, "She needs a brother, don't you think?"

"No," Minerva replied, pushing back. "I was thinking a sister."

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for indulging me these months. I had no idea how writing my first fanfic would go. It has been great! I never would have kept going without all the support.


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